


The Lord of Isengard and the Queen of Doriath

by SirReaganChap



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 56,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7336789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirReaganChap/pseuds/SirReaganChap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Saruman the White gains lordship over the fortress of Isengard, he uses the Palantír of Orthanc to communicate with his sister, Melian, whose guidance keeps him on the path of good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Council of Manwë

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that I have already published on fanfiction.net, but now have decided to publish here also.

Curumo stood next to the throne of his mentor, Aulë, in Máhanaxar, the throne room of the Valar. He, along with all the other Ainur, had been summoned to participate in a meeting called by Manwë. All of the Maiar were gathered near the thrones of their respective mentors, which were arranged in a great circle within the throne room. Because of Aulë's close proximity to Vána, Curumo was able to stand near his sister, Melian, who was a student of Vána.

When all of the Ainur were assembled, Manwë spoke. "It has occurred to me that we have wrongfully neglected Middle-earth in recent times. Though there are many among both elves and men who have made transgressions against us, it would not be right to let those who are good to continue to suffer at the hands of the Enemy. It appears that even without his master and critically weakened, Sauron is still too much for the Free Peoples to overcome. It is for this reason that we must now send three emissaries to Middle-earth to contest Sauron. Who will go?"

Curumo couldn't believe what he was hearing. After the deaths of Melian's husband and daughter, for which Sauron was not blameless, she sank into a depression for thousands of years. Now, after Curumo had lamented what had happened to Melian even after she had emotionally recovered, he had a chance to take rightful vengeance for the atrocities committed against Melian.

As he stepped towards Manwë to volunteer, Melian reached out and grabbed his arm. "You don't have to do this. I know you want to avenge my family, but Sauron was only indirectly responsible for what happened."

"All who have had a hand in your suffering must pay," said Curumo. "It was Sauron who gave Morgoth information on the Silmarils, the theft of which led to the deaths of Thingol and Luthien. All the others who contributed to the deaths of your husband and daughter have paid the price, and Sauron has evaded punishment for far too long. This is my one chance to destroy the last remnant of the evil that hurt you so much."

Curumo forced Melian to let go of him, and continued towards Manwë. "I will go," he said. "It would be a privilege to inhibit the Enemy in whatever ways I can."

Then, Alatar of Oromë's Maiar came forward and said, "I, too, shall go. I have gone into the far eastern parts of the world with my master in the past, and I have extensive knowledge of those places."

Manwë looked somewhat disappointed that only two had come forward. "Where is Olórin?" asked the Elder King. "I would have expected my wisest servant to volunteer. Where is he?"

Just as Manwë had asked that question, Olórin, clad in gray, entered the throne room. "Here I am, my lord," he said. "What is it I am volunteering for?"

"I would like you to to travel to Middle-earth to help the men and elves in their struggle against Sauron," said Manwë.

"Me? Go against Sauron?" The usually calm and mellow Olórin sounded doubtful. "I can't possibly do that. He is too strong for me, even without his great Weapon. No, no. I fear him greatly."

"Then that is all the more reason for you to go," said Manwë. "Besides, you will not be alone. You will have Curumo and Alatar to help you, and they are more than capable for this task."

Then, Yavanna decided to add her input. "I think it would be prudent to also send one of my people. If we are sending emissaries to protect Middle-earth, then at least one of them must care for the protection of the beasts and forests."

The Elder King sighed. Yavanna would never stop complaining about how the people of Middle-earth were going to completely decimate the forests for lumber, and she didn't understand that they were smart enough to replant trees to replenish their resources without someone telling them to do so. "Fine. Send one of your people if you so wish."

"Then I shall send Aiwendil," Yavanna said, looking very satisfied that she had, once again, been able to pester the King of Arda into appeasing her. Aiwendil of Yavanna's people then stepped forward to join Curumo, Alatar, and Olórin. Curumo couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed that he had to take someone who cares only for animals and trees.

Then, Alatar asked, "Can we then take one more with us? I would like to bring my friend, Pallando. We work well together."

"Of course," said Manwë, and Pallando, another of Oromë's pupils, joined the group.

"Though I had asked for three emissaries, we have five," Manwë said. "That will be enough, I think. These shall be the ones who will assist the Free Peoples, and you, Curumo, as the greatest and wisest of the five, shall be the leader."

Curumo, who was feeling absolutely ecstatic about being appointed the overall leader of the group sent to fight his sworn enemy, then asked, "Do you want us to capture Sauron? Shall we force him into submission with our full might? Shall we bring him back to Aman to be thrown into the Void with his master?" Curumo thought that the five of them could bring Sauron down together. He imagined his enemy humbled and weakened, left open for Curumo to destroy the last of his strength and at last avenge Thingol, Luthien, and everyone else Sauron had killed, directly or indirectly.

"No," said Manwë. "We already tried doing that to Morgoth. Although we succeeded, it was at the cost of the destruction of Beleriand. You are to advise and guide the people of Middle-earth. Your work must be subtle, and your true origins must remain a secret. You should appear as old men, aged in looks, but strong in both mind and body. You will be wizards of great, yet hidden power, and you may not reveal your full strength unless you yourselves are in imminent danger, and you are forbidden to lead by force and domination."

Curumo couldn't deny that Sauron's defeat wasn't worth much more damage to Middle-earth, but neither could he help but feel a bit disappointed. Olórin and Aiwendil, on the other hand, did not seem to mind, as they were somewhat predisposed to peace and diplomacy.

"Tomorrow, you shall leave for Middle-earth," said Manwë. "I will have the Teleri prepare a ship for you, which should be ready in the morning. Until then, you may rest for your journey. You are all dismissed."


	2. The Gifts of Melian

After being dismissed from the throne room, Curumo traveled back to the mansion of Aulë and went to work in the forge one last time before his departure to Middle-earth. If he was going to appear as an old man, then he should bring a walking stick to ease the weariness of the old age that mortals experienced. He spent the remainder of the day making his staff, and it turned out nicely. It was a simple black cylinder made of steel. It wasn't terribly heavy, and it was very durable. He also imbued it with some of his magic, given that he was going to appear as a wizard. Satisfied with his work, Curumo retired to his bedroom for the night.

The next day, he was wakened by a knock on his door. When he answered it, he was greeted by Melian, who had a small package with her.

"Good morning," she said. "I have some things for you. I thought that if you're going to be appearing to the people of Middle-earth as a mighty lord and sorcerer, then you're going to need this." She opened the package and held up a beautiful white robe with shining silver accents made from silk.

Curumo took the robe from her to get a closer look at it. "This is absolutely beautiful," he said. "Did you make this for me?"

"Yes. I've been working on it for some time. Put it on. Let's see how you look."

Melian left the room and closed the door behind her. Curumo removed his simple white tunic and donned the glorious, expertly made robe and put on a pair of matching white leather boots. He opened the door to present himself. "How do I look?" he asked.

"You look very impressive," Melian replied. "Not quite as impressive as Thingol, but your height makes up for it a bit. In fact, I would say that the length of the robe and the way that it hangs off of the top of your body accentuates your height. I also came to give you this." She reached into the package and held up a small, white, spherical stone. "I got this from an enchanted pool in Nan Elmoth. I used it to strengthen the barriers around Doriath. I expect it will be quite useful to you."

Curumo took the stone and put it in a small traveling bag, which he hung from his shoulder. "Thank you," he said.

Melian smiled. "It's the least I could do for you going on a dangerous mission to avenge my dead husband. I also have one more thing to give you before you go." She took the last object out of her package: a small birdcage with a nightingale in it. "Nightingales are my favorite birds," she said. "Just something else to remember me by. I've trained this one to communicate through song, so you might use it to send messages far away. There isn't much time before your ship sails, so you'll have to get Aiwendil to teach you how to understand it. I hear he's great with birds."

Curumo internally groaned. He wanted to make use of this gift that his sister was giving him, but he did not like the fact that he would have to ask the likes of Aiwendil for help. Aiwendil was beneath him. He did not care for creativity or any kind of intellectual work, so Curumo held little respect for the sheep-like servant of Yavanna. But now he had to ask him for help?

Melian noticed Curumo's disdain. "Don't be like that," she said. "He'll be of at least some use. Besides, don't you think that learning how to use my little present will be worth it?"

"Perhaps you're right," Curumo sighed. "I suppose that I must depart ere long. If you will excuse me, I must bid my master farewell."

He made his way to Aulë's chamber in the uppermost level of the mansion, being careful not to step on the hem of the long robes as he climbed the stairs, lest he risk tripping or damaging his sister's generous gift. When he opened the door to his master's chamber, he beheld Aulë's personal workshop. It was filled with several furnaces and many smithing tools such as hammers and tongs, and in the center of the room was an anvil, where the Smith of the Valar himself was hammering away at a hot piece of steel into a yet unidentifiable shape.

"The time is nigh, Master," said Curumo. "I must now go to the harbor in Alqualondë to begin my task."

The Smith looked up from his work and set his hammer down on the anvil. He attempted to wipe the soot from his ruddy face and his big red beard. "So you must. I must say that taking up such a perilous mission in honor of your sister is a noble thing indeed, but I question your attitude sometimes."

Curumo frowned, not being used to his mentor's disapproval, since he always gave his best in all his work, which always turned out quite impressive. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Even before it was discovered that Sauron had been swayed by Morgoth," said the great Blacksmith, "you always seemed to have some disdain for him. That was when he was the greatest among my people, as you are now. Forgive me if I come off as harsh, as I know that you give your best in all that you do, but I believe that I detect envy."

Curumo stood silently. He knew that he had always harbored a grudge against Aulë's former greatest pupil.

"Before you go, I feel that I must advise you on the evils of envy. It is hatred of the good for being good. You wanted to prove yourself to me and be considered a Maia of great power and wisdom, but Sauron was considered greater than you, and so you hated him. I think that you were glad when he turned to Morgoth so that all could see his work turn to evil, and so that you could flourish without his competition. What I teach is to be creative. I must stress that a creative person is motivated by the desire to achieve, not by the desire to beat others. Show that you are greater than Sauron by improving yourself."

Curumo felt ashamed for the petty hatred that began in his youth. "I will try, Master," he said. "I promise, for both your sake and Melian's, that I will erase the evil of Sauron through my own work and the improvement of my own skills. I realize that I do not have to play his game of force and terror to defeat him. I will guide the free people to set aside petty rivalries, and I shall lead them against their common enemy. That is my work."

"Good," said Aulë. "Now go. This is your chance to prove that you are the wisest, most powerful, and most creative of my Maiar."

"I will," said Curumo. "Goodbye."

"Farewell, Curumo," said Aulë.

Curumo bowed, exited the workshop, and went back downstairs to his chamber where Melian awaited him. He picked up his staff, the shoulder bag containing the white stone, and the birdcage. "Come," he said. "We need to get to Alqualondë." They exited the mansion, and Curumo took a last look at that grand house that had been his home for so long, and they set off for the harbor city of the Teleri elves.


	3. The Departure of the Five

After crossing the plains of Valinor, Curumo and Melian passed through the Calacirya pass in the Pelóri mountain range. Just south of the pass was Taniquetil, the tallest mountain in all of Arda, upon which the palace of Manwë and Varda was built. It was from that palace that the Elder King could observe all of Arda. He would no doubt be looking to see if the wizards were following the restrictions set upon them. Even if he was not looking himself, all birds were friends and messengers of the King of Arda, so he would likely know of all of the emissaries' activities.

Once the siblings reached the eastern side of the mountains, they turned north and traveled along the coast until they reached Alqualondë. The numerous white towers of the city were decorated with pearls which the Teleri had found in the sea. The city was quiet, and the sound of the waves was the only thing that could be heard. Alqualondë had not been a very lively place since the first Kinslaying.

Making their way through the city, the siblings found the great stone steps that led up to the docks where the Teleri shipwrights did their work. Curumo was feeling more and more excited as he drew closer to the docks. He was about to embark on a quest appointed to him by Manwë himself to contest his long time rival, and he was absolutely thrilled about it. In his haste in getting up the steps to the dock, he stepped on the hem of his robe and was forced to stop to keep from tripping. Two more steps he climbed, and twice more he stepped on the hem, and he was starting to get annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I cannot get up these damn steps smoothly! I can't do it, Melian, I'm sorry. Because every time I try, I step on the thing."

Melian couldn't help but giggle at the greatest pupil of Aulë and leader of the Five Wizards struggling to climb stairs because his robes were in the way. "You did it this morning," she said.

"These clothes are a menace," Curumo retorted.

Melian smiled at her brother's irritation. "So the great wizard is thwarted by a robe and some stairs? If Sauron knew this weakness of yours, his deadliest servant would be a tailor who would make your robe longer, and his fortress's most potent defense would be a stairwell with a thousand steps."

Curumo found Melian's little jabs quite amusing, and he allowed himself to laugh at them. This would be the last time that they would be able to make jokes with each other for a long time.

Calmly and carefully continuing up the steps, Curumo reached the dock where Manwë, the other wizards, and the Teleri ship awaited him. He saw that his fellow wizards had taken the same preparation measures as himself. They all had robes and staves befitting practitioners of arcane arts. Olórin wore plain gray robes, a tall, pointed gray hat, and a pair of black leather boots, and he was carrying a simple wooden staff and a satchel.

Aiwendil's robes and hat looked somewhat improvised. They were made from used fabrics, since he could not be bothered to do something as allegedly terrible as shearing sheep. They were various shades of brown, because Aiwendil could be rather obnoxious about his connection with the earth. His wooden staff looked to be a long dead branch that he stumbled upon, because, once again, he would not harm any innocent life, even beings that were not sentient and could not feel pain, such as trees. Aiwendil also carried a satchel that Curumo guessed was filled with grass, twigs, and other such things.

Alatar and Pallando were dressed quite tastefully in Curumo's opinion. Both of them wore simple yet elegant hooded blue robes. They probably chose similar robes because of their close friendship. The only major difference was that Pallando's robe was a few shades darker. Alatar's staff was made from gray wood that looked almost silver. Pallando had a staff of black wood. The crown of this staff was shaped like a serpent devouring a blue stone.

Manwë stood before his emissaries. "Now, you must go into the east. I am not willing to repeat the actions we took that led to the destruction of Beleriand, but you are to show the free people that they are not forsaken. But before you go, know that you must make the right impression. Your physical appearance must not be threatening or intimidating. You must look wise, so I ask you to age your hröar to appear old in the years of men."

The wizards complied, and they used their power to mold their bodies into the forms of elderly men. Curumo's previously raven hair had lengthened, and was now white, and he had a great white beard that still had touches of black around his mouth. Olórin's hair had also grown and become gray, and he had a gray beard. Aiwendil didn't look quite as old as Curumo and Olórin. His hair remained brown that was beginning to turn gray, and he had grown a matching brown beard. Alatar and Pallando also looked somewhat younger than Curumo and Olórin, though they still looked to be of a considerable age. Their black hair was now graying, as were their beards.

Curumo noticed Melian giggling at his strange new look. "Only now can you claim to be the prettier of the two of us," he said. His voice hadn't changed too much. It was still quite deep and melodic, but it just sounded a bit older.

"You look very wise," said Melian as she pulled her brother into a hug. "I'm going to miss you."

"Don't worry," said Curumo. "I'll be back. It may take a couple thousand years, but I'll come back."

"Just promise me one thing," said Melian.

"Anything."

"Do your best. Not just for me, but also for yourself."

"I promise," said Curumo. "I'll do my best. For both of us."

Olórin, Aiwendil, Alatar, and Pallando got onto the ship, having already said their goodbyes in the realms of their respective masters. Manwë placed his hand on Curumo's shoulder, pulling him away from Melian's embrace. "It is time," he said.

Curumo boarded the ship with his companions, and the ship set sail. The crew was small, consisting of a handful of Teleri elves. The sail was unfurled, and the ship went forward from the dock. Curumo stood at the stern of the ship and waved to Melian. He was joined by Olórin, who was waving at Manwë. They watched Alqualondë and the rest of Aman fade into the distance as the ship went into the east.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know where I got the idea for Saruman tripping over his robes while going up a set of stairs, you are awesome.


	4. Across the Sea

Curumo leaned against the railing of the ship as it passed out of sight of Aman. The elven crew didn't talk, leaving the wizards to their own devices, which suited Curumo just fine. He was usually content to be alone with his thoughts. However, after silence had filled the air for a while, Olórin, being the amicable individual he was, strode up to Curumo and leaned on the railing next to him. Curumo wasn't the best at socializing, but he was going to try his best.

"I am quite excited to be going to Middle-earth," said Olórin. "I don't know that much about it, so I am going to have to do some studying when we arrive."

"I know a bit about Middle-earth," said Curumo. "I have a few books on the major kingdoms. Most importantly, I have studied all about Sauron. I know his habits, his military tactics, and his major fortresses. I also know of the nature of his power. Secrets of the history of the fabled One Ring. In the Second Age, he went to the Elven realm of Eregion, where he donned a fair disguise and instructed the elves to create the Rings of Power. However, unbeknownst to the elves, he returned to his realm in Mordor and secretly made his own Ring, far more powerful than the others. With this, he was able to control the wills of those who wore the lesser Rings. There were some who were suspicious of him, so they made three more great Rings. Sauron did not know about them, but they were created with his methods, so they were still subject to the control of the Ruling Ring. Those three are hidden, and none know their location save their bearers. Sauron stole the lesser rings and distributed them to rulers of Men and Dwarves. The latter received seven, and they were driven mad with greed. The former received nine, and those nine Kings were transformed into horrible wraiths enslaved to the Dark Lord's will. However, Sauron's Ring was taken from him, and he has lost much of his strength."

Alatar, who had been listening, then added, "His land is in the eastern parts of Middle-earth. He is attempting to gain the allegiance of the Easterlings and the Haradrim."

Curumo looked at Alatar. He was impressed that he was not the only one who had any idea of the situation in Middle-earth. "Is that why you're here? You're going to convince them to fight against Sauron?"

Pallando answered for his friend. "You're going to need us, since we know the cultures of the east. Without our help, Sauron will surely seduce them with promises of power, and he will be unstoppable. We are going to do whatever we can to help them." These words greatly appealed to Curumo. At least the blue clad wizards were hard working, responsible individuals, which Curumo refused to say for Aiwendil.

"That is good," said Olórin. "Wisdom and guidance. That is what Manwë instructed us to use. If the two of you are going east, then Curumo, Aiwendil, and I shall do what we can in the west. I think I shall wander among the men and elves and get to know their people."

"You will make a fine diplomat," said Curumo. "I, on the other hand, am more knowledgeable in things that will be useful in war. I have studied weaponry and tactics of war, and I can teach men and elves how to improve their smithing skills." He then turned to Aiwendil. "The four of us know our roles in this mission. What about you?"

"I think I shall find where the forests are," said Aiwendil. "They need protection. I don't approve of the ways of the Children of Eru. They all want to cut down all of the trees and destroy the forests. Someone needs to make sure that doesn't happen." The brown clad wizard sounded pretentious.

Curumo was severely irritated by Aiwendil's words. "You do realize that if people cut down all of the trees without replanting them, they will run out of wood, right? Do you not think that they have the intelligence to replenish their resources?" Aiwendil was looking no less annoyed than Curumo.

Olórin stepped in before any more could be said. "There's no need for us to argue. I feel that we will succeed if we all do what we feel to be right. If we disagree on our goals, then we have the option to work separately."

Curumo and Aiwendil stood silently, and Olórin decided to talk about something else. "I remember hearing your voice during the Music of the Ainur," he said to Curumo. "It was as though Eru created you for your voice. Even when speaking, your voice is compelling, even enchanting."

Curumo was glad to hear that his deep voice was enjoyable, though he knew it beforehand. He had always been a master of words and persuasion. "Thank you. I've been told of my particularly melodic voice. But if you think my singing is impressive, then you have not heard Melian. Even her nightingales try to imitate her."

"Ah, yes," said Pallando. "The great Queen of Doriath, correct?"

"Indeed she was," answered Curumo. "But that kingdom was destroyed along with the rest of Beleriand. We could be passing above it even as we speak." He looked down at the water, knowing that the sea bed was once a vast country inhabited by many people.

"I suspect that we might find some descendants of Melian in Middle-earth," said Pallando. "My master has many ways of getting information, and he told me that the lineage of Melian still continues."

"Perhaps you could find your great-great-great nephew or something," said Olórin.

The voyage went on for many days. The wizards continued to make small talk to pass the time. Alatar and Pallando were still excited to go to Rhun and Harad. Aiwendil talked mostly with Olórin, as he didn't want to get into any arguments with Curumo.

At last the western shores of Middle-earth came into view. There was a gray city with a harbor that contained several ships, some completed and some under construction. The wizards' vessel went into the harbor, where it was tied to the dock by the elven crew. At the dock stood an elf wearing a blue tunic and a gray cloak. On the ring finger of his right hand was a golden ring with a red stone. He must have been tremendously old even for an elf, as he had a long gray beard.

"It is not often that a ship comes into my haven from the West," said the elf as the wizards made to get off the ship.

"Indeed, we are from the West," confirmed Curumo, realizing that he would not be able to hide his origins from an elf who had personally witnessed his ship arrive from Valinor. "We are the Five Wizards. I am called Curumo. The gray one is Olórin, the brown one Aiwendil, and the blue ones Alatar and Pallando. We are here to contest the power of Sauron. Know that the Lords of the West have not forsaken you." He set his birdcage down on the dock and reached out to shake the elf's hand.

"I am Círdan," said the elf. "I am the Lord of the Gray Havens. I sense a great power in the five of you, and I perceive that you are some of the spirits who were before the creation of the world. Your assistance will be of great use. If you will come with me, I will direct you to the other members of the Wise."

Círdan turned away from the ship and strode towards the city as the other four wizards got off of the ship. "Come, my friends," said Curumo. "We have work to do."


	5. The Wise

Curumo, Alatar, Pallando, and Aiwendil walked away from the ship towards the city. Curumo looked back, and he saw Círdan and Olórin speaking with each other with their backs to him. He couldn't tell exactly what they were doing, but he saw that they were maybe shaking hands. Typical of Olórin, who was always eager to make friends with those he met. Círdan then caught up to the wizards and let them through the city.

The wizards followed Círdan through the Gray Havens to his house. Many of the elves in the city seemed to be either waiting for a ship to be completed to take them to Aman, or helping to build the ships under Círdan's instructions. The Lord of the Gray Havens bid the wizards enter his house, which was more of a small palace befitting the ruler of the city, and have a seat in the parlor. The room was full of desks with ship designs strewn across them. Curumo noticed that the ring that Círdan was wearing was now gone.

"You must not speak of our true identities to anyone," said Curumo. "It is part of our mission that our natures remain concealed"

"I give you my word that I shall tell no one, even those among the Wise. Speaking of which," he said, directing the wizards' attention to a map that hung on the wall. "The mightiest among the elves remaining in Middle-earth can be found mainly in Rivendell and Lothlorien." He pointed to a settlement labeled as Rivendell on the west side of the Misty Mountains and to a small forest labeled Lothlorien near the southeast of that mountain range. "In Rivendell, you will find Lord Elrond. In Lothlorien, you will find Galadriel and Celeborn. These, along with the Kingdom of Lindon, which is where we are, are the last few Elven strongholds still in active opposition to Sauron. Though Lindon still stands, the king, Gil-galad, who was the High-King of the Ñoldor, is dead, and lordship over his kingdom falls to me. I am not the king because I was not related to him. I was the choice to rule Lindon because I was his lieutenant, and he had no children. "

Aiwendil took notice of the huge forest to the east of the Misty Mountains. "Who lives here?" he asked.

"That is the Greenwood, the realm of King Thranduil. He and his family are of the Sindar elves, but the people he rules are Silvan. Make no mistake, he is not like the great Sindarin lords of the First Age, like King Thingol of Doriath. He has yet to make himself useful in the struggle against Mordor, and he is not counted among the Wise."

Círdan then pointed to the south of the Misty Mountains at the lands around the White Mountains. "Here is the kingdom of men that is hit hardest by the forces of Mordor. It is Gondor, the sister kingdom of Arnor. It has great forces of arms, but it is Elrond and Galadriel who best know how to combat the enemy." He then pointed to the northwest of the Misty Mountains. "Arnor was once as great as Gondor, but civil war has weakened it, and it's people fight amongst themselves instead of helping in the fight against the Dark Lord."

"I think I shall go to the Greenwood," said Aiwendil. "Maybe I could give Thranduil a bit of motivation."

"Pallando and I will go to Rhun, and then to Harad," said Alatar. "That is where our specialty lies, so that is where we will be most useful."

"I shall travel to Rivendell, and then to Arnor," said Olórin.

"I will accompany you to Rivendell," said Curumo, "but then I will part ways with you to go to Gondor. Once we reach our destinations, we will find out what we can about the situation in Middle-earth and then gather at a designated meeting place. Aiwendil, if you would teach me a thing or two about communicating with birds, I will send my nightingale to tell you when and where we will meet."

Aiwendil looked shocked that Curumo would ever ask him for help, and he looked quite pleased. "Of course," he said.

"It seems that the new members of the Wise are quite resourceful," said Círdan. "Go, now. Learn what you can, and use it to guide the elves and men in their struggle. I do not have any horses, so you will have to go on foot. Olórin, your journey to Arnor will be the easiest, for Eriador is a peaceful country with mild terrain. Your journey," he said to Alatar and Pallando, "will be the hardest by far. Rhun and Harad are far away, dry, hot, and dangerously close to Mordor." The Blue Wizards nodded in understanding.

"Then it is settled," said Curumo. "We must now be on our way."

The wizards bid Círdan farewell and departed from the Gray Havens. They walked across the green hills and fields of Eriador, and they were glad that they had their staves, for it was a long walk through the vast country. For a whole week, they stopped only to sleep. On the way, Aiwendil explained some of the basics of talking to birds to Curumo. Aiwendil's pretentiousness about nature and animals made the lesson more painful than necessary, but Curumo was extremely pleased that he could now make use of Melian's present. Their paths diverged when they were approaching the Misty Mountains. Aiwendil, Alatar, and Pallando turned south, while Curumo and Olórin continued east to the hidden valley where Rivendell lay.


	6. A Familiar Face

The two wizards came upon the valley where Rivendell was, and they beheld a peaceful sanctuary with many elegant houses nestled between the hills. It was also in a militarily advantageous position, as it would be very difficult for enemy forces to get down into the valley while also being assailed by the hosts of Rivendell.

As Curumo and Olórin were crossing the bridge over the river that had formed the valley to the sanctuary, they were halted by a company of Elven soldiers with sturdy swords and armor that glittered like silver.

Curumo, wanting to make his intentions known, said "We have come to meet with the Lord Elrond."

The leader of the guards kept his hand on his sheathed sword and said "Who are you, and what business do you have with the Lord of Rivendell?"

"We are of the Order of the Wizards," said Olórin. "We act as messengers to the enemies of Mordor. We have been instructed by Círdan the Shipwright to meet with your lord."

"If you would take us to him," said Curumo in his commanding, enchanting voice, "he might tell us where our services may best be put to use."

The guard took his hand off of his sword and said "Very well. Come with us to the Hall of Fire where Lord Elrond is. Just hope that you are worth his time."

The wizards went with the company of guards into Rivendell, where they saw many elves simply enjoying the peaceful quiet of the valley. They gave the wizards some strange looks. Granted, they were quite an odd pair, especially in a place where men seldom went. The guards led them to a large mansion-like building. When they went inside, they beheld a vast, dark, empty chamber with a great fireplace at the opposite end of the room. The fire was the only source of light, and the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the flames. In front of the fireplace were a few couches and armchairs. A single solitary figure sat in one of the armchairs.

"You have visitors, my lord," said the captain of the guard. "They claim to be wizards sent by the Lord Círdan to speak with you."

"I will see them," said the figure. "Leave us."

The guards exited the chamber and closed the doors behind them. "Have a seat," said the elf in the armchair. Curumo and Olórin walked over to the fireplace and sat down in the two remaining armchairs to the left of the occupied one. They could now see the elf. He had long, dark brown hair. He wore a regal robe of red and gold silk, and upon his head was a golden circlet, almost like a tiara. Upon the ring finger of his right hand was a golden ring with a blue stone. However, the most important feature of this elf to Curumo was his face. He had a very familiar-looking facial structure, though more masculine than what Curumo was familiar with. What really let Curumo know that this elf was of the line of Melian were his eyes. Curumo saw in his eyes a light of wisdom and power that had always been present in his sister.

"I am Elrond," he said. "So, you are wizards, and you have the blessing of Círdan to speak with me?"

"That is correct," said Curumo. "We wish to speak to you on the matter of dealing with the Enemy."

Elrond looked skeptical. "It takes many years of training and learning to attain the wisdom and skill necessary for sorcery, especially for men. Prove that you have knowledge of magic."

Curumo, being used to working with fire, pointed his staff at the fire, and it went out, leaving the chamber in complete darkness. Olórin, also familiar with fire, raised his staff, and the fire sprang back to life.

Elrond gave a few slow claps. "Very good. Who are you, and where do you come from?"

"I am Curumo, and this is Olórin. We are men who have learned magic of the elves. There are five of us. Our companions have gone southward to go around the Misty Mountains. We seek to help the free people against Mordor. But I am interested in you. Of what lineage are you? Who are your ancestors?

Elrond gave a look of suspicion to Curumo. "I am of a very mixed heritage. I am actually Half-Elven, but I was offered a choice to be counted only among the elves instead of men. My elven ancestors were mostly of the Ñoldor, but I also trace my lineage to the Sindar."

"The Sindar you speak of were of Doriath in the First Age?" asked Curumo, eager to know the history of Melian's family. Olórin gave him a look that told him to stop these inquiries, lest he reveal their identities.

"Yes," answered Elrond.

Ignoring Olórin's implications, Curumo then asked "Then you are descended from the Queen Melian?"

"She was my great great grandmother. How do you know this? What interest do you have in Melian?" Elrond asked with an accusing tone.

Curumo cursed himself for being so tactless. "I simply want to know your history and what happened to the Elven lords of the First Age."

Elrond glared at him. "I cannot be the first one to tell you this when you are so old and well learned in magic. How is it that you have not read of the fate of the Ñoldor in exile at the end of the First Age? How did you know I was related to Melian? What is your interest in her? I am going to ask you again. Who are you?"

Curumo realized that he had backed himself into a corner. Elrond was apparently not counted among the Wise for nothing, for he had been able to see past the enchantments of Curumo's voice. "I suppose it's no use hiding it from you, but Círdan said you were trustworthy, so maybe you are deserving of our secrets. We are not men. We are Maiar, and Melian is my sister. You bear a similar appearance to her, especially your eyes. We have been given this mission by Manwë himself, but our origins must remain a secret. Can we trust you to not speak of this to anyone?"

Elrond smiled and gave a quiet laugh. "Your secret is safe with me. Now we have five Maiar to help us in our fight against the East! But I do not doubt that Manwë would have you hide your identities for a good reason. If he simply wants you to guide us and let elves and men achieve their own destiny, then maybe it is for the best."

"That is exactly as Manwë instructed," said Olórin. "As one of his students, I know that all that he does has a good purpose."

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "So you are a pupil of the Elder King himself? Fascinating. Who is your master, Curumo?"

"My master is Aulë the Smith. If you don't mind my asking, did you ever know my sister or her husband?"

"No," said Elrond. "I was born in the Havens of Sirion, and I was raised by Maedhros and Maglor, the sons of Fëanor. I did not meet Melian nor Thingol, but I am told that the King of Doriath was murdered by the dwarves who wanted the Nauglamir, which Thingol had combined with one of the Silmarils. Melian, stricken with grief, departed from Middle-earth and never came back."

Curumo, after hearing the tragedy of Thingol and Melian from Melian's own great great grandson, renewed his resolve to defeat Sauron. "Does Sauron still rule in Mordor? To what extent has the loss of the One Ring weakened him? When is the best opportunity to strike him down while he is crippled?"

"None know where Sauron is," answered Elrond. "His spirit fled from Mordor after he lost the Ring, and Gondor has placed a watch over the Black Gate to ensure that he does not get back to his realm. However, he has lost most of his strength. When he had the Ring, he was completely unstoppable, but without it, he has little influence in the world. Even the Nazgûl have disappeared from sight. But make no mistake. While the Ring survives, Sauron and the Ringwraiths also survive. We must always be wary."

Curumo frowned. Now he would have to go hunting for his enemy.

Then Olórin, who was eager to fight any evil that plagued the world, asked "What else might we do to help the free people fight evil? Surely Sauron is not the only thing to worry about."

"The Kingdom of Arnor is currently at war," said Elrond. "A civil war has divided it into three smaller kingdoms, and now the Kingdom of Angmar has taken the opportunity to strike while Arnor is fragmented. None know the name of the Witch-King of Angmar, but he is an evil Numenorean and a practitioner of black sorcery and witchcraft."

"I think that this Witch-King can be defeated if Arnor were to reunite," said Olórin. "I'll show him a thing or two about magic."

"I must go to Gondor," said Curumo. "I need to get more information on Sauron so that he may be found."

"I would suggest going to the city of Osgiliath," said Elrond. "There is a great library there where many records are kept."

"Then it is settled," said Curumo as he stood up from the armchair. "We will stay in Rivendell for the night, but we must continue our quest in the morning."


	7. The Palantíri

Curumo and Olórin left Rivendell in the morning as planned. Olórin went North towards Arnor, while Curumo traveled South along the Misty Mountains. For many days he walked, leaning on his staff. He reached the gap between the Misty Mountains and the White Mountains, the western border of the Kingdom of Gondor, at which point he turned east. Eventually, he came upon a great river, which he remembered was labelled as the Anduin on Círdan's map. Here, he turned south and reached his destination, Osgiliath, the capital of Gondor. The massive white city was built on either side of the Anduin, with a great stone bridge built over the river. Upon the bridge was a tall tower with a beautiful silver dome on top.

He entered the city and found that it was different from the quiet, serene Elven cities. This was a place of music and merriment. It's people were happy and secure in the high walls guarded by soldiers whose steel armor bore a crest depicting a tree. The same emblem was emblazoned on every flag in the city; a white tree upon a black field.

Curumo made his way to the bridge with the great tower, which was the hall of the King of Gondor. However, as in Rivendell, he was stopped by soldiers when he attempted to enter.

"State your business in the hall of King Ciryandil," said one of the guards.

Curumo could see that these people were less wise than the elves, and would not be swayed by his credentials, so he relied more on his powerful voice to gain admittance. "I am of the Order of Wizards, and I must speak with your king."

Curumo didn't have to say much for the guards to be swayed by his enchantments. "Very well. You may enter."

The guards stood aside and opened the great doors to the tower. Inside was a great hall. The floor, ceiling, walls, and columns were all white marble. At the end of the chamber was a silver throne set upon a high dias with ten steps leading up to it. Upon the throne sat a man wearing a black cloak over a suit of steel plate armor. On his head he wore a silver crown decorated with swan feather designs.

"Hail Ciryandil, King of Gondor," declared Curumo, his deep voice echoing off of the marble walls of the vast hall. He decided to come up with a different backstory. "I am of the Order of Wizards. We are ancient elves gifted in magic who have been tasked with guiding the free people in the struggle against Mordor. I have been sent by Lord Elrond of Rivendell to see how I may serve Gondor."

The king stood up from the throne and walked down the steps towards Curumo. "I gathered as much," he said. "A few weeks ago, I happened to see you speaking to Lord Elrond with your friend who went North."

Curumo was glad that Ciryandil accepted his story, but he was utterly baffled that he knew when he had spoken with Elrond and that Olórin had gone North. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"If you will come with me, I will show you," said the king. He led Curumo up a staircase behind the throne at the back of the hall. "I could tell that you have Lord Elrond's approval, and I trust his judgement. If he has sent a Wizard to assist Gondor, then I have a task for you." When they reached the very top of the tower, they were in a circular white room that was directly beneath the silver dome. In the center of the room was a massive, black, perfectly spherical stone as tall as Curumo.

"This is a Palantír," said Ciryandil. "It is one of eight, and it is the chief stone of the South. The others in Middle-earth are at the towers of Annuminas, Amon Sul, Ellosterion, Minas Anor, Minas Ithil, and Orthanc. The Master Stone is in the Undying Lands on the island of Tol Eressea. These seeing stones allow the user to view things far away, which is how I could see you meeting with Elrond. However, they are very difficult to use. The farther your gaze, the more taxing it is on your mind. It is also extremely difficult to make them transmit sound. I have tried my best, and still I cannot hear anything through the Palantír."

Curumo started walking in a circle around the huge stone to make sense of it, and he saw images beneath the surface swirling around as he moved.

"The Palantíri have fixed positions they they must be in for them to be usable," Ciryandil continued. "If they are facing the wrong way, the surface will appear blank. In order to look in a certain direction, you must place yourself on the opposite side of the stone. For example, to look east, stand on the west side. The chief stones do not have fixed positions. They can be oriented in any way and still work. The Master Stone is the easiest to use, and a user can look in any direction regardless of where they are in relation to it."

Curumo stood on the east side of the stone and looked West. Because of his strong Maia mind, he was able to see all the way across the sea to the shores of Valinor. "What is this task that you ask of me?"

"For the entirety of Gondor's existence, all of our threats have come from the East, so all of our major defenses and fortress-cities are towards our eastern border. However, there has been trouble rising in the West in recent times. The Witch-Realm of Angmar is hammering down Arnor, and we cannot assist them without neglecting our watch on Mordor. If Arnor falls, then the Witch-king will be able to attack us from our unprotected west side. There have also been orcs that come down from their caves in the Misty Mountains to raid defenseless villages. That, my good wizard, is where you come in."

"You want me to defeat the Kingdom of Angmar and exterminate all the rogue orcs in the Misty Mointains?" asked Curumo.

"No," said Ciryandil. "The fortress of Isengard lies in the vale at the foot of the southernmost peak of the Misty Mountains. It used to be commanded by a hereditary guard, but it is now deserted, and the tower of Orthanc is now locked. However, if you could take control of it and the palantír that it houses, you would play a vital role in defending Gondor's western border."

Curumo liked that idea. The Palantír of Orthanc would be most useful in his search for Sauron, and he could conduct his hunt while sitting safe in the fortress of Isengard. "Very well. I accept your offer."

The king reached into a pocket in his cloak and pulled out two great black keys of intricate shape joined by a steel ring. "These are the keys of Orthanc," he said. "You cannot get into the tower without them. The stone is indestructible." He handed the keys to Curumo. "Being such an old elf as well as a wizard, you have all the skill you need to bend the Palantír to your will, Saruman."

"Saruman?" Curumo asked, unfamiliar with the word.

"I see you are not of the Sindar elves," said Ciryandil. "It is a Sindarin word that roughly translates to man of skill."

Curumo liked that word. Using a new name would help distance himself from his Quenya name that he had used in Valinor, thus making it easier to hide his true nature. "Thank you," he said, shaking hands with Ciryandil. "You have been of great help to me, and I shall repay you by seeing what help I can provide."

He left the tower and started to make his way back West to Isengard, elated by the knowledge that as soon as he reached his new abode, he would gain a distinct advantage over Sauron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm messing with the timeline a bit here. In the book, Saruman wanders around for over a thousand years and only settles in Isengard long after the Kings of Gondor are gone. I didn't want to do that because pretty much nothing would be happening most of the time. I had Ciryandil give him the keys of Orthanc because he was the King of Gondor when the Wizards arrived.


	8. The Iron Fortress

After he left Osgiliath, Saruman made sure to use his new name whenever he met someone on his way back to the west. He went back the way he had come until he reached the gap between the Misty Mountains and the White Mountains. At this point, he turned north and headed directly towards the southernmost peak of the Misty Mountains. Saruman soon found himself in a great forest situated in a valley formed by two offshoots of the Misty Mountains, which effectively made the valley inaccessible except from the South. The forest was thick and dark, and he could not see anything above the treetops. Therefore, his arrival at a high stone wall was very sudden. This must be the Ringwall of Isengard, the fortress's first defensive measure. He found the gate at the southernmost part of the wall. The gate was in disrepair since the Wardens of Orthanc had abandoned Isengard. Pieces of the rusted iron bars were snapped off or dented, and the entire gate seemed just about ready to fall down. So, Saruman struck the gate with his staff, giving it a blast of magic, and the gate was blown inwards. He would have to fix that later.

He continued into the fortress. The entire plain within the Ringwall had been overgrown with wildlife, as nobody had tended to it in hundreds of years. The forest had grown inside of the fortress, its trees reaching almost as high as the wall. The only parts that Saruman could walk on without being obstructed by roots and vines were the pathways leading from the wall to the tower of Orthanc, which he could only see because there were no trees on the path. He walked half a mile to the center of the fortress where the black tower lay.

Orthanc looked as though it were made from four black pillars of rock that were fused together. At the top of the tower, the pillars opened into four sharp, gaping horns, leaving a flat space between them. The entrance to the tower was a doorway at the top of a stairway of twenty-seven steps. Saruman started walking up the stairs and immediately stepped on the hem of his robes. He was going to have to stop doing that.

When Saruman reached the top, he inserted one of the Keys of Orthanc into the lock, pushed the door open, and set the birdcage with his nightingale inside on the floor. There were no sources of light in the entrance room. Only the sunlight streaming in through the open door let Saruman see the inside. It was clear that the tower's interior had been neglected. Dust hung in the air and covered the smooth, black floor and walls. An old chandelier hung from the ceiling by rusted chains. There were four rooms around the entrance hall to the northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast, which housed the stairwell. All of the rooms on the first floor were empty and only featured a few stained glass windows, so Saruman ascended the stairs up to the second floor.

The central room of the second floor was entirely dark, because all the doors leading to sunlight were closed. Saruman lit up his staff and saw in addition to the four doors leading to three rooms and the stairs, there was also a fifth door to the south. There were unlit lamps on either side of each door. On the north side of the room was a large, black, intricately carved stone chair with a very high back, like a throne. In the center of the room was a black, cylindrical pedestal with a cloth over something that rested on top of it. He approached the pedestal and removed the cloth. Sitting there was a small black stone sphere, perfectly smooth and unmarked. This must have been the Palantír of Orthanc. Even with his staff and his powerful voice, this stone would be his greatest weapon against Sauron. With this, the Dark Lord would have nowhere to hide.

Saruman opened the other doors in the room and found them all empty, but their windows did let some light into the central chamber. Saruman tried to open the southern door, but found it locked. He figured that it required the key that had not been used to open the front door. He inserted the key and found that the door led out to a balcony. He turned back to the stairs and ascended to the top floor, passing many other floors that were all empty.

The central chamber of the top floor was much smaller than the others, because the tower became more and more narrow going up. Once again, all of the rooms adjoined to the central one were empty save for some windows. The one feature of the central chamber was a set of stairs leading to a trapdoor in the middle of the ceiling. He climbed the stairs and opened the trapdoor, which led out to the Pinnacle of Orthanc, the tower's roof. It was completely flat, with white lines on the floor arranged in an intricate pattern. Saruman could see that the four horns reached much higher than the Pinnacle of Orthanc, at least fifteen feet higher than where he stood. He looked out over the valley that was now his personal property, granted to him by the King of Gondor. The Misty Mountains to the north were very close by. The Ringwall of Isengard was actually built into the southernmost peak so that that mountain effectively served as the fortress's northern wall. The two arms that branched off from the main mountain range were farther away, making the valley quite wide. Saruman looked down at Isengard, with the wall being simply a circle amidst the trees, and decided that he rather liked the idea of a fortress filled with trees. He didn't worship the things like Aiwendil did, but he could appreciate the beauty of nature. All of it was now his own personal, vastly huge garden. He would clean up the area around Orthanc and plant some hedges and rosebushes, but he would leave the areas near the wall to remain wild and unkempt.

Saruman now realized that even his Maia spirit was beginning to tire due to the limitations of having a human body. He would need either to make a farm or to ask for money from the king to purchase food. He would also be needing a bed. Perhaps he could hire some help to get all of these things.

The wizard went back downstairs. Instead of going back to the first floor, he descended even further to the basement. Again using his staff for light, he found that the basement was a forge. Everything that he could possibly need for smithing purposes was in that room. There were hammers, tongs, an anvil, and a furnace.

Then Saruman got an idea. This fortress now belonged to him. He was its lord. Perhaps he should show his new authority by making some modifications to his staff. He went to work in the forge, pleased to be in such a familiar environment. He made four sharpened black metal flanges and attached them to his staff to represent Orthanc. Then, he remembered the white stone that Melian had given him. To represent his sister and add her power to his, he set the stone between the flanges and welded it in place. The new, stylized crown did not add too much weight to the staff, and it could even be used as a sort of mace combined with a polearm weapon should hand-to-hand combat be required.

Saruman took his new staff and ascended to the stairs to the first floor, grabbed the birdcage, and locked the front door. He then went up to the second floor. The wizard set down his staff, leaning it against the wall next to his new throne. He sat down upon the throne and let his nightingale out of the cage, knowing that it would stay with its master, as he could easily use the power of his voice to call it back. It would take a few weeks to fix the gate and get a bed, food, and anything else he would need into the tower, but at that moment Saruman was simply glad to sit and rest with a strong, secure shelter. Once the essentials for his survival and comfort were taken care of, he could begin his hunt for Sauron. Of course, he would also honor Ciryandil's request to keep the gap between the Misty Mountains and the White Mountains safe, but he would be looking into the palantír on the pedestal before him every chance he got. So the Lord of Isengard sat on his throne, deep within his vast, impregnable fortress, safe within its walls, preparing to truly begin his mission.

 


	9. Ring Lore

Over the following years, word had spread of the White Wizard who had taken lordship of the old fortress of Isengard. The people of Gondor had heard edicts issued by the King proclaiming that Isengard was to be the personal property of Saruman the White, and the surrounding valley was named Nan Curunír, the Wizard's Vale. Eager to ensure that Saruman was prepared to defend the lands south of Isengard, the King ordered grain and livestock to be taken to Isengard. He also had a group of fifty volunteers to make their homes in Isengard and tend to the fortress in return for shelter and protection provided by Saruman. The Lord of Isengard did not want to tarnish the beauty of his garden, so he had his new servants construct their village upon the slopes of Methedras, the southernmost peak of the Misty Mountains into which the Ringwall of Isengard was built. The houses and farms were built upon the lower parts of the mountain where there was sufficient soil and where they could easily get down to the wall.

Saruman, for the most part, stayed with a couple of servants inside of Orthanc, where he brought everything that he needed. He assigned a purpose for each room in the tower, and Orthanc became a perfectly livable home. There were four bedrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a pantry, a study, a storeroom, and even a small library.

Saruman's very first measure in strengthening the defenses of the valley was casting a spell that sought to confuse and turn around any unwanted guests who wandered through the forest in an attempt to get into the valley. The people in the village behind Isengard, however, lived without concern of Saruman's fearful illusions. In fact, they could enjoy looking at Isengard's vegetation that the White Wizard had enchanted, such as trees with sparkling leaves and glowing flowers, which were even more beautiful at night. In addition to the spell, Saruman also ordered for the gate to be replaced with a stronger one.

As he sat high in his tower, Saruman's study filled with books and maps of knowledge of all kinds of subjects. It didn't really matter to him what kind of things he read, as long as he was interested. He simply loved learning new things. So, he enjoyed purchasing ancient, unknown books from the library of Osgiliath just to see what obscure facts he could learn.

One such book came from some dark, hidden corner of the library, and it was so dusty it was as though it hadn't been touched in centuries. Sitting at his desk, he opened the book, carefully handling the fragile cover. The script written upon the yellowed pages was not the Westron that the men of Gondor used, but rather Quenya. This book was written in Eregion in the Second Age, and it detailed the creation of the Three Rings. Vilya, Narya, and Nenya they were called. Narya, the Ring of Fire, and Vilya, the Ring of Air, had originally been given to Gil-galad, who was slain by Sauron. Saruman found images of those two rings. Vilya was a gold ring with a blue stone, and Narya was also gold with a red stone. However, the book did not say what had happened to them after the High King's death, nor did it say where Nenya was.

Saruman guessed where they might be. Elrond had a ring that looked similar to Vilya, and he remembered Círdan wearing a ring with a red stone. He would have to ask them about this matter. If his suspicions were true, then this could explain how the remaining Elven realms had been able to withstand Mordor during the War of the Last Alliance.

Continuing through the book, Saruman found an old letter between the pages.

_Year 3434 of the Second Age. Here follows the account of Isildur, High King of Gondor, and the finding of the Ring of Power._

_It has come to me, the One Ring. It shall be an heirloom of my kingdom. All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate, for I will risk no hurt to the Ring. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain. The markings upon the band begin to fade. The writing, which was at first as clear as red flame, has disappeared. A secret now that only fire can tell._

How interesting. That was the very Ring that had scorched Isildur's hand and betrayed him to his doom, and yet he had considered it precious. Saruman couldn't blame him. Such a weapon could have been quite useful.

The White Wizard's thoughts then turned to something that was precious to him: Melian. He longed for her company and her guidance. He had been searching for the Dark Lord using the Orthanc Stone for many years, and he had no success. Sauron's hiding place could be anywhere, for he was a disembodied spirit after the loss of the One Ring. The Palantír was beginning to take its toll on Saruman, who was beginning to tire after spending so much time walking in circles around the stone in an attempt to search every nook and cranny he laid eyes on. Maybe Melian could help him.

Saruman left his study and went to the central chamber, where he sat down on his throne and bowed his head, holding it in his hands, trying to rest his mind. He heard the chirping and singing of his nightingale, and he looked up and saw the bird perched upon the Palantír. A thought occurred to him. Ciryandil had said that the Master Palantír was on the island of Tol Eressea. That place was but a short boat trip from the shore of Valinor. Of course! He would send the nightingale to Valinor to tell Melian that they could communicate with the seeing stones. If Melian would take up her abode in the tower of Avallónë, the two of them could talk whenever they pleased. Surely King Olwë of the Falmari would be honored to let the former Queen of Doriath stay with him. Surely this would be a most splendid venture.

Saruman took the nightingale out to the balcony and, using the secret languages of birds that he had learned from Aiwendil, he gave it instructions to go to Valinor and tell Melian to go to Tol Eressea and use the Master Stone to search for the Orthanc Stone. He let it out into the free air, and it flew away into the West. He did not expect it to be a speedy journey, for it was a small bird, and it had to travel over hundreds of miles across Middle-earth and the great sea.

While releasing the bird, Saruman looked down to see an elf on a horse riding towards Orthanc. He must have had good intentions to be able to get past the wizard's enchantments and for the guards at the gate to let him in. The elf wore the gold-colored armor and the standard of Rivendell. He turned to go back into the tower and went down the stairs to the first floor. He opened the door to greet the elf.

"Greetings, Lord Saruman," said the elf. "Lord Elrond sends his regards. He requires your presence in Rivendell."

"Very well," said Saruman. "You may tell Lord Elrond that I will be there as soon as I can."

The elf bowed, went back down the stairs, climbed on his horse, and rode away. Saruman went around to the north side of the tower to go to the village on the slopes of Methedras to get a horse. Hopefully he would be done with whatever Elrond needed by the time Melian arrived in Tol Eressea.


	10. The White Council

When he arrived in Rivendell, Saruman found himself sitting at a table at a pleasant terrace, enjoying the tranquility of the hidden valley along with Olórin and Aiwendil as they waited for the arrival of Elrond, who was not present. Olórin was looking as plain and gray as usual, and Aiwendil looked to be a bit of a mess with his ragged robes and tangled hair.

"What have you been doing for these past years, Olórin?" asked Saruman.

"It has been a long time since I have gone by that name. Word of the Gray Wizard has come to many people, who all give me different names. Men call me Gandalf, elves call me Mithrandir, and dwarves call me Tharkûn. I personally prefer Gandalf."

"Interesting," said Saruman. "I, too, have been given a new name. I no longer go by Curumo. Instead, I am called Saruman by the men of Gondor." He turned to Aiwendil. "What about you? What do the elves of the Greenwood call the Brown Wizard?"

"I am called Radagast, which means 'tender of beasts.' I like to think that I live up to that name quite well. I make friends with all of the animals I meet."

Saruman scoffed inwardly at his fellow Wizard's obsession with beasts. When would he realize that it is the people of Arda who make a difference?

"Where are Alatar and Pallando?" asked Saruman.

"They are too far away to be able to be with us," answered Gandalf. "They do not have the luxury of living in the West."

"Speaking of which," said Saruman, "where do you live?"

"I do not really have any permanent settlement. I just wander around wherever my help might be needed. Where do you live?"

"I have taken up residence in the fortress of Isengard in northwestern Gondor. It is in a valley at the southern end of the Misty Mountains. Quite a grand place it is, and I am very fond of it." He then turned to Radagast. "What manner of home have you made for yourself?"

"I have made a small cottage in the Rhosgobel area on the western borders of the Greenwood," said Radagast. "Speaking of residence, I thought that you were going to send that nightingale of yours to tell us when and where to meet."

"The time for that has not yet come," said Saruman. "I will send word when it is time for us to meet, but I will say right now that we will gather at my home in Isengard. Hopefully it is not too far away for the Blue Wizards to join us."

Gandalf and Radagast nodded in agreement just as Elrond arrived. Accompanying him was a beautiful Elven woman in a white gown. Upon her golden hair was a silver circlet, much like Elrond's, and her feet were bare. On her right hand she wore a silver ring with a white stone. Saruman thought to himself that she did not think that the image and nature of that ring would ever be recorded or seen by anyone. Evidently, she was wrong. The elves sat down at the table with the wizards.

"I have called you here at the request of Lady Galadriel," said Elrond, referring to the Elven woman. "As leading members of the Wise, we must work to lead Middle-earth against evil. This group is the White Council. It was first formed in the Second Age. The head of the council then was Gil-galad. However, the White Council has not gathered since his death. In response to the issue that Lady Galadriel wishes to discuss, we are in need of a new leader."

"I think that Mithrandir would be ideal as the head of the council," said Galadriel. "I have heard of the help that he has offered to the men of Arnor, and of his wisdom and kindness."

"I am flattered, my lady," said Gandalf, "but I believe you underestimate Lord Saruman. His wisdom and power are beyond my own, and we must not forget that he is also the head of the Order of the Wizards."

Saruman wasn't sure what to think about this. He knew that he was an extremely capable person with strong leadership skills. He was very proud of himself, and he had earned his pride and self esteem. He knew that he would be a good choice to lead the White Council. However, he felt slightly annoyed that Gandalf had been suggested instead of him. "I will do it," he said. "I was not chosen to be the leader of the wizards for nothing."

"So be it," said Elrond. "Lord Saruman shall be the new head of the White Council."

"Then I would like Lady Galadriel to tell me why I am here," said Saruman.

"There is something at work in the dark places of the Greenwood," said Galadriel. "I have sensed a dark entity in the abandoned fortress of Dol Guldur. I do not know its nature, but its presence has caused a sickness that taints the forest around Dol Guldur. I suspect it is a practitioner of witchcraft. A Necromancer, or perhaps something more powerful."

Saruman felt severely vexed. He should be searching for Sauron and consulting Melian, not wasting his time with some petty sorcerer. For all he knew, his sister could be peering through the Master Stone at that very moment, waiting for Saruman to return to Isengard. "This is what I have been called all the way from Isengard for? Some sorcerer in an old fortress? There isn't even anyone near Dol Guldur who this Necromancer is threatening."

Galadriel looked offended by Saruman's dismissiveness. "I do not think that this is something to be lightly overlooked. For all we know, the Necromancer could be a servant of the Dark Lord."

The White Wizard gave a mocking laugh. "The complexity of the absurdity of your reasons for having me take part in this nonsense is utterly baffling. I have better things to do. You, my lady, can handle this yourself. You are the one whose realm is closest to Dol Guldur, so stop wasting my time."

Now, Galadriel was getting irritated. "Do you not realize the purpose of this council? We are to..."

"I said stop wasting my time," Saruman interrupted. "Stop it!"

"I'm afraid that I must side with Saruman," said Elrond. "We all have things that we need to do. It seems to me that the Necromancer concerns you, Galadriel, more than any of us, except, perhaps, Radagast."

"This is what is going to happen," said Saruman. "We will wait for now. If the Necromancer's activities remain in Dol Guldur, he is harming nobody. If he threatens Lothlorien or Thranduil's realm, then we will take matters into our own hands. If we attack and he turns out to be a simple magician foolish enough to destroy himself with witchcraft, it will be a waste of time and effort, and we will have gained nothing. If there are any other issues that you want to discuss, now is the time."

"My venture in Arnor hasn't gone very far," said Gandalf. "The three splintered factions continue to feud, and they refuse to unite to fight their common enemy. I fear that the Northern Kingdom will be destroyed if this continues. Assistance will be needed to defeat Angmar before it is too late."

"I will contribute to the war effort as soon as I can raise the number of soldiers needed," said Elrond. "My army took heavy losses in the Siege of Barad-dûr, and it will take time to recoup."

Saruman thought that this issue was worth addressing. "When I return to Gondor, I will ask the King to send support to Arnor. You see, Lady Galadriel, the Kingdom of Angmar is an immediate threat, unlike a sorcerer that I know nothing about in a fortress that I have no interest in."

Galadriel glared at him. This was clearly not the end of their dispute.

"Don't worry, my lady," said Radagast. "I will do all that I can to protect the forests."

Saruman rose from his seat. "If that is all, then I must be going now. There is business that I must tend to."


	11. The Bond of Brother and Sister

On the journey from Rivendell to Isengard, Saruman could think of nothing but how happy he was going to be to be able to see his sister after so many years, and how annoyed he was that Galadriel had wasted his time. At least Gandalf had something worth discussing.

When he at last came to Isengard, he immediately went up to the Palantír chamber where his nightingale waited and removed the cloth that covered the stone. He stood on the East side of the Orthanc stone and looked to the West. Though it strained his mind, he looked far across the hills and plains of Eriador, across the Blue Mountains, and across the sea. He beheld the island of Tol Eressea, with the continent of Aman just beyond it. On the island was the great Tower of Avallónë that signaled the gateway to the Undying Lands. His sight was drawn to the uppermost floor of the tower, and he could see that an immense Palantír larger than the chief stone at Osgiliath dominated the center of the chamber. Just past the Master stone on the West side stood a very familiar, very beautiful Maia, who looked no less like a mighty queen than when she had ruled Doriath, or when Saruman had departed from Valinor. The sight almost brought tears to the wizard's eyes.

Knowing that they both possessed skill of mind sufficient enough to hear sound through the Palantíri, Saruman spoke. "I couldn't do it to you," he said, choosing to skip the formalities.

"What do you mean?" asked Melian.

"When you left to go to Middle-earth, I was glad that you were happy with Thingol, but I admit that I felt jealous. For almost a thousand years Thingol enjoyed your company, and I waited alone for your return. It was painful to endure, and while I shared in your grief at the loss of your husband and daughter, I felt relieved to be with you again." Saruman's voice choked up a little, and his eyes started to water. "I will not do that to you. I know that you love me just as much as I love you, and so I will not leave you to be alone for however long this takes."

Melian was at a loss for words, and she felt tears sting her eyes. She had never realized how much her brother had missed her. Even after all that suffering, her brother still found it in his heart to forgive her and spare her the loneliness that he had experienced.

"It is for this reason," continued Saruman, "that I will seek no spouse. I have no such needs. I have no desire for a family of my own. I look to you for wisdom, and you give me all the love that I could need."

At last Melian found her voice. "I'm sorry," she said as she wiped away the tears that were starting to form. "I'm sorry that I left you alone for so long, and thank you for giving me such comfort when I returned to Valinor. You should know that I loved Thingol and Luthien with all my heart. I loved them, but you are my family as well. No matter what, you will always be my brother, and I am glad for that."

Saruman picked up the Palantír and sat down on his throne, holding the stone to his right so that he was still facing West. "All is forgiven. Even with the Great Sea between us, we need no longer be apart. Now I must tell you all that I have learned in Middle-earth, for I feel I am in need of your guidance."

"Do tell, Curumo," said Melian.

"No one calls me that anymore," said Saruman. "Due to the fact that my identity as a Maia must remain secret, I now go by a Sindarin name: Saruman."

"A fitting name," said Melian, knowing the word's meaning, for her kingdom had been of the Sindar Elves. "You are indeed marvelously skilled. Where are you? Have you found a place to live while you carry out your task?"

"I live in the northwestern part of Gondor, a mighty kingdom of men. My abode is the fortress of Isengard, which lies within a deep forest in a valley surrounded on three sides by the mountains. You would love it here. The forest is dense and dark, and the trees and flowers are so beautiful. The fortress consists of a vast, circular wall of stone. In the center lies the tower of Orthanc, which is where I live."

Melian gave a small laugh. "You live in a tower? After all that fuss over your robes and the stairs, and yet you choose to live in a tower?"

"I've gotten used to the stairs," said Saruman. "I hardly ever trip anymore. And Orthanc is such a grand place. It looks like four great black stone pillars welded together and opening up into four spires at the top. It is an ingenious work of architecture. Also, I must show you what I have done with the white stone that you gave me." He held up his staff so that Melian could see the crown.

"How clever! Adding my power to yours. And I see that it's modeled after Orthanc, judging by your description of the tower."

"Indeed," said Saruman. "A white stone atop a black staff for the White Wizard atop the black tower."

"Where are your companions?" Melian asked, wishing to further question Saruman.

"Olórin, now known as Gandalf, wanders about Arnor, another kingdom of men. Aiwendil, or Radagast, as he is now called, lives in the Greenwood. Alatar and Pallando have gone far away in the East to places that I know not. I have travelled across Gondor, and also to the Elven stronghold of Rivendell, where I was pleased to discover that the line of Melian still survives. Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, is one of your descendants. He is your great-great grandson, and he is a very fine person. He is very much like you in many ways. He posesses your grace and wisdom, the latter to such an extent that he was able to discern my identity."

"You said earlier that you need my guidance," said Melian. "What is it that you need help with?"

"What I need help with is something that utterly irks me. I just returned to Isengard mere minutes ago. I was at Rivendell at the request of Lord Elrond to partake in a meeting of what is called the White Council, which is a group of select members of the Wise who advise and persuade the kingdoms of the world to act against evil, and I was appointed the new head of the council. However, the meeting was called at the request of an Elven woman called Galadriel."

Melian stopped him before he could continue. "I know her. She spent many of her days in the First Age at my court in Doriath. She seemed to want knowledge of my power, but I knew that she had only come to Middle-earth in hopes of ruling a realm of her own, so I only gave her a small amount of information about protective enchantments. Please, go on."

"It was Galadriel who asked Elrond to summon Gandalf, Radagast, and I to the meeting. She claims to have felt a presence in the abandoned fortress of Dol Guldur near her home of Lothlorien, the presence of one called the Necromancer. For whatever reason, she is convinced that this entity is a servant of Sauron. There are many weilders of dark magic in the world, so I don't see why this particular sorcerer is so special. That woman simply let her paranoia get the better of her, and my valuable time, along with that of all the members of the White Council, was wasted."

"Don't be too harsh," said Melian. "I suspect that she is trying to atone for her support of the rebellion of the Ñoldor and her desire to rule the wills of others. I think that she simply wants to do good. I say that you should let her handle the Necromancer herself, since you said that Dol Guldur is close to her home. If this sorcerer proves to be a greater threat, then you should investigate further, and expel him from the area should the need arise."

"That's exactly what I suggested," said Saruman. "Although Elrond and Gandalf are on the same page as me, Galadriel and Radagast are dedicated to this wild goose chase. However, Gandalf did bring up a valid issue for discussion. He reports that the Kingdom of Angmar is continuing its conquest of Arnor. The Witch-king of Angmar is a powerful sorcerer with great skill of witchcraft, and he will destroy the Northern Kingdom if nothing is done. I am going to send word to the King of Gondor requesting to send an army to fight back against Angmar."

"Good," said Melian. "Surely a mighty nation such as Gondor can help. You might also want to see if Lord Elrond has any soldiers to spare."

"I already did," said Saruman. "His forces are few, for his army must replenish from the losses that they suffered in the War of the Last Alliance. He will not be able to help in the near future."

Saruman rubbed his head, feeling unusually fatigued. This was his first time having a conversation through the Palantír, and it was beginning to strain his mind. "I fear that I must go now and rest," he said. "Using the Palantír to speak with you is very tiring, and this body has its limits."

"I understand," said Melian. "I will stay here in the Tower of Avallónë whenever you want to talk to me."

"Thank you, my sweet sister. Together, we will hunt down Sauron and free the world from his evil."


	12. The Meeting of the Five

Saruman saw many Kings of Gondor come and go as the years became decades and then centuries. He asked them to send aid to Arnor, but the Southern Kingdom was occupied with a civil war of its own. Disputes over the ownership of the crown erupted into a violent conflict that ended with the rightful king still on the throne, but at the cost of the burning of Osgiliath as well as the Dome of Stars that held both the throne and the chief Palantír of the South, which fell into the Anduin, unable to be recovered. The damage that Osgiliath sustained was so great that Gondor's capital was changed to the fortress city of Minas Anor. It seemed that no help would come from Rivendell either. Elrond was doing his best to raise his army back to its former strength, but it seemed that Arnor would be at the mercy of Angmar for the time being.

Using the Palantír of Orthanc, Saruman found Dol Guldur and sensed a presence in the fortress, but it was far too dark to be able to see anything within. The Necromancer remained generally inactive, so Saruman ignored the fortress. If Galadriel was convinced that the Necromancer was a threat, she could deal with him herself, for the White Wizard could not be bothered.

He reported all of his findings to Melian, who advised him that the time had come to call a meeting of all of the wizards. Saruman obliged, and he sent out his nightingale to Arnor, the Greenwood, and Rhun with instructions to find the wizards and tell them to travel to Isengard.

It took many months, but at last all the wizards had gathered in Isengard. Gandalf was the first to arrive. A few weeks after came Radagast. Alatar and Pallando were by far the last to arrive due to dwelling far to the East beyond the Anduin and even beyond Mordor. The evidence of their Eastern dwelling was evident in the intricate braids and beads that were woven in their hair.

They held their meeting in Saruman's dining room, where they feasted on salted pork, tomatoes, roasted chicken, cheese, red wine, and sweet potatoes upon a black table that matched the color of everything else in the tower. While Saruman, Gandalf, Alatar, and Pallando happily ate all of it, the Brown Wizard only touched the fruits and vegetables and looked at his companions with disapproval.

"What troubles you, my friend?" asked Gandalf. "You must have some of this meat. The salted pork is most delicious."

"I'd rather not, really." replied Radagast. "It just doesn't sit well with me."

Saruman sighed. "You and your beasts," he said as he ate his meal. "Speaking of things not sitting well, have you found the Necromamcer of Dol Guldur to be dangerous?"

Radagast pushed his plate away when he was done with his meal, and Alatar took it to consume the uneaten meat. "He does not interact with Lothlorien or King Thranduil's realm," said the Brown Wizard, "but the trees near the fortress are in a sad state."

"What news from Rhûn?" asked Saruman. "Tell us what is happening in the East."

"The situation in Rhûn is somewhat similar to Gandalf's description of Arnor," said Alatar. "There is an evil sorcerer who wants to corrupt Rhûn's relationship with Gondor. There has been peace between the two kingdoms since the beginning of the Third Age, but this sorcerer is trying to throw Rhûn back into war."

"That's not the worst of it," said Pallando. "The sorcerer is also a cult leader. He encourages men to worship Sauron. Many Easterlings have flocked to his idea that Sauron can lead them to conquering the West. He has even built a temple where they burn people alive as sacrifices to the Dark Lord. The followers of the cult are fanatically devoted to an alarming degree. We don't even have a way of knowing who this sorcerer is. His identity is always hidden behind a hooded cloak, or in the shadows of his temple."

"Is there no resistance to this sorcerer and his cult?" asked Gandalf.

"The dwarves of the Iron Hills and the Red Mountains have little love for Sauron," said Alatar. "They have told us that they will help if they can, but they are currently preoccupied with securing their wealth from the dragons that sometimes come down from the North."

"If a solid opposition to the cult is not established soon," said Pallando, "Rhun may be a lost cause. The citizens who are oppressed by the sorcerer bear their suffering in silence. They are too afraid to act, and they are essentially giving the sorcerer their sanction. We may have to go south to Harad to see if we have more luck there."

"I think it would be best for the two of you to split up," said Saruman. "Alatar, you may go to Harad while Pallando stays in Rhûn." He then turned to Gandalf. "What is the situation in Arnor?"

"The future of the Northern Kingdom is looking ever more hopeless," said the Gray Wizard. "The Witch-king has conquered all but one of the three splintered kingdoms in the North, and it seems that none can stop the wrath of Angmar. I have seen it myself. I ventured far into the North to the Mountains of Angmar, where the ice of perpetual winter holds an iron grip on the land, as cold and cruel as the Iron Crown that the Witch-king wears. There, I beheld the armies pouring out of Carn Dûm, the castle of the Witch-king. That army has burned the great watchtower of Amon Sûl and destroyed the city of Annúminas. The King of Arnor took the Palantíri that were stored in those places out to sea, but they are now lost."

"I will ensure that Gondor provides aid," said Saruman. "Now that the civil war is over, the King of Gondor could make the survival of Arnor a higher priority. I expect that Lord Elrond will have mustered a sufficient force to battle Angmar now that his armies have had many centuries to rebuild." Wanting to discuss a different matter, Saruman changed the subject. "As you all know, I have been doing my utmost to find the Enemy's hiding place for a long time. To help in my search, I have done some research on the tools of Sauron, namely the Rings of Power. The Nine presumably remain with the Ringwraiths, who are hidden in dark places. Four of the Seven have been lost in raids by dragons upon the Dwarvish kingdoms, and it can be assumed that the others remain with the Dwarf lords. However, I have managed to find the locations and bearers of the mightiest of the Rings of Power, the Three. Narya is with Círdan, Nenya is with Galadriel, and Vilya, the mightiest of the Three, is held by Lord Elrond."

"Where did you find this information?" asked Gandalf. "And why are you sharing it with us? Surely the bearers of the Rings would want this to remain a secret, just as we keep our identities to ourselves."

"The library at Osgiliath held a great wealth of ancient knowledge before it was burned during the war," said Saruman. "I am telling you this because we must know of all of the advantages that we have over Sauron if we are to be active participants in the struggle against him. When Sauron eventually reemerges, it would be prudent to encourage Círdan, Elrond, and Galadriel to use these advantages."

Something on Gandalf's hand caught Saruman's eye. It was a golden ring with a red stone that looked exactly the same as the one that Círdan had at the docks in the Gray Havens and had mysteriously vanished at Círdan's house. "If anyone else knows anything concerning the Rings, now is the time to tell us."

Gandalf sat in silence, but Alatar had something to share. "The sorcerer who leads the worshippers of Sauron possesses a ring of highly potent magic. We have spied on him in his temple when he performs his rituals, and his ring seems to give him the powers of fire, which he uses to burn his victims."

"We will need more information," said Saruman. "It could simply be a lesser ring. If not, then the sorcerer may have stolen one of the Seven or Nine. Pallando, you will have to find out what you can about it, since you will be returning to Rhûn while Alatar goes to Harad."

"I will do my best, my friend," said Pallando. "We must be going now. Thank you for the dinner and your wonderful hospitality."

"Thank you," said Gandalf. "I hope that your quest for knowledge will bear fruit soon."

The wizards rose from their seats and went to the entrance hall. Saruman opened the front door, and his companions exited the tower. The plans had now been laid out. The wizards would continue to gather information, and Saruman was nearing ever closer to finding Sauron


	13. Defenders of the White Hand

The years since the meeting of the wizards went by much the same as usual, which was not entirely a good thing. The war in Arnor was looking more and more hopeless. The capital had been changed to the city of Fornost, for it was the final bastion of men in the North. Gondor could not spare any resources, because it still had to rebuild after the civil war. No help would come to Arnor.

Meanwhile, Isengard had gone from an outpost fortress of Gondor to its own independent realm. The King of Gondor had stopped funding Isengard and no longer issued commands to Saruman, for he had his own people to worry about. The population of the village upon the slopes of Methedras had swelled to over five hundred due to some of the refugees from Arnor settling there. The village eventually dominated the mountainside, and its residents started to delve into the mountain itself to make homes in the caves, much like the Dwarves who had built the mansions in Khazad-dûm, Belegost, and Nogrod of old. They even found many veins of gold while excavating the mountain, granting the village substantial wealth.

The prosperity of Isengard was encouraging, but the situation of the war in Arnor worried Saruman deeply, and the wrath of Angmar inspired fear in his heart. So, he decided to consult his sister.

"The future of the Northern Kingdom grows more bleak each day. It is to the last stand at Fornost that the noose of Angmar comes, slow in the drawing, tight and hard in the end," said Saruman as he rested upon his black seat and held the Palantír in his hands. "It is clear that Gandalf cannot save Arnor by himself. My help is needed, but I don't know what to do. I have only myself and some unarmed, untrained men, women, and children, not an army of elite warriors. What can I do against the legions of Angmar?"

Melian gave it some thought before delivering her answer. "Judging by the fact that there is only one city that has not been destroyed by Angmar, and neither Gondor nor Rivendell have been able to provide support thus far, it is clear that Arnor is a lost cause."

"Surely you don't mean that," said Saruman.

"That is the unfortunate reality. Even if the King of Gondor mobilizes all of his soldiers and sends them to Arnor, it will have already been too late. However, the Witch-king's conquest will not stop at Arnor. He will continue on to Gondor. That is why the fight is not over. Isengard lies near the Western border of Gondor, and so it shall be Angmar's first target after Fornost falls."

"Then what am I to do? First I let Arnor fall, then my own people, who rely on me for protection? A fortress with no host cannot last long."

"There is still hope," said Melian. "Your people are being threatened, so they should do something about it. If you are successful, then an attack on Isengard will let the men of Gondor know their peril. They will see that Angmar must be stopped lest they be destroyed, and they will finally fight back against the Witch-king. It seems that your search for Sauron must cease for now."

"So be it," said Saruman.

He now knew what must be done, though he did not like it. The people who had known nothing but peace in Isengard would now be required to defend their homes. Saruman could have easily forced them to fight, but he believed that to be a monstrous injustice. He did not believe that anyone should be forced to go to war against their will. In the decision between fighting in war where death awaits or being punished by death, imprisonment, or other penalties, only suffering could profit. Therefore, he would ask that the gold that had been found in Methedras be used to pay for the arming of the men, and he would offer whatever money was left as incentive for them to fight if saving their homes was not enough motivation.

Saruman left Orthanc and went to the village, and he called all of the citizens to meet and hear what he had to say. When all of the villagers were gathered around him, he spoke. He did not speak any louder than usual, but his enchanted voice still carried to the ears of all five hundred people.

"For hundreds of years, a war has been destroying the land of Arnor, far away from our peaceful valley. Some of you are the descendants of those who came here to help me when I first came to Isengard, and the war is a distant conflict of no consequence to you. Some of you came here very recently and have seen the horrors perpetrated by Angmar with your own eyes, and the war, to you, is a very real threat. I am here to say that the views of the refugees from Arnor have become a reality. We are no longer safe. Arnor is lost. It will not be long before Fornost falls, and then the Witch-king will set his eyes upon Isengard, for it will be his first obstacle of conquering Gondor."

The villagers exchanged frightened looks and whispers. The idea of being targeted by the evil in the North had never been a possibility that they had to consider.

Saruman raised his hand in a calming gesture and continued. "It is for this reason that I ask all who are able and willing to fight in defense of your homes. Not only will you save yourselves, but it will let Gondor know that they will be victims of Angmar if nothing is done, and they will at last defeat the Witch-king. But I will not force any of you into my service. If you do not wish to fight, then that is your decision. I must ask you to give donations to pay for weapons and armor, if you wish to defend your homes."

One man stepped forward and said, "For its entire existence, this village has been protected by the fortress of Isengard, and the skilled hands of the White Wizard have created marvelous tools as well as the prosperity of our village. I would gladly fight in your service."

The man's declaration was followed by countless shouts of encouragement, and more men stepped forward to proclaim their will to fight. However, another man asked, "How are we going to defend against the armies of Angmar? The Witch-king must command thousands of soldiers, and we are but a few hundred."

"In any siege, the defenders always have the inherent advantage of defensive walls," explained Saruman. "The attackers must get past the walls to get to the host inside. It is for this reason that I will commission the building of a wall that will block entrance into this valley. The legions of Angmar will first struggle to overcome that wall, at which point we will retreat to Isengard itself. We will steadily wear down the enemy until either they are destroyed or they retreat. I swear to you, I will protect this village and all that you value."

The villagers responded with cheers that proclaimed their loyalty and hope. These men who had so eagerly volunteered to fight were clearly willing to go to any lengths to defend their homes and families.

"I will purchase all the necessary equipment from Gondor's armories and hire someone to train you to fight," said Saruman. "All men who wish to volunteer should meet outside of Orthanc tomorrow."

As Saruman was starting to walk back down the mountain, he was approached by one of the villagers.

"If it is an army that you want," he said, "then you will also be wanting some kind of a flag or banner to symbolize your realm. I've never been much of a fighter, but I just so happen to own a textile mill that might be of some use. Just tell me what kind of design you want, my lord."

Saruman hadn't thought about having a banner for Isengard. It was appropriate now that Isengard was no longer a part of Gondor, but Saruman had never really given it much thought. Saruman remembered what that man had said about his skilled hands creating the prosperity of the village.

"I want a white hand upon a black banner," said Saruman. "The skill of my hands is one of my proudest virtues, and the black shall represent Orthanc."

"Of course, Lord Saruman. I will have enough banners to hang around the entire perimeter of the Ringwall of Isengard in no time at all."

Saruman went back to Orthanc and sent out his nightingale to tell Gandalf to come to Isengard. It was too late to save Arnor, but the fight had to be continued. Once Angmar attacked Isengard to get to Gondor, the Southern Kingdom would finally see reason and take action to cast out the evil of the Witch-king. While Gandalf had failed to save Arnor, Saruman would triumph at defeating Angmar.


	14. The Siege of Isengard

A few weeks after Saruman had assembled all those who wished to fight, Isengard had made all of the necessary preparations. The townspeople worked day and night to construct a defensive wall at the entrance to the Wizard's Vale. The wall was not as elaborate as the Ringwall of Isengard, but it would serve its purpose. The space between the mountains may have been narrow in comparison to the rest of the valley, but the wall built between them was too long to be adequately manned by the forces available to Saruman. So, the ends of the wall were much higher and stronger than the rest to prevent the enemy from climbing over the vacant spaces of the wall. Saruman had also summoned an arms merchant from Gondor and purchased armor, swords, spears, shields, and bows. The merchant was also an experienced combat teacher, so Saruman had him train the soldiers.

It was not long before Gandalf rode to Isengard. He arrived just as the new wall was completed. Flags bearing the White Hand of Saruman flew proudly from it, and more flags were displayed upon the Ringwall of Isengard. Saruman had the weapons merchant take care of Gandalf's horse, and the two wizards walked among the trees while the soldiers were training at the base of Orthanc.

"How much more time do we have to prepare?" asked Saruman.

"There is no time," answered Gandalf. "Fornost has fallen. The destruction of Arnor is at last complete. On the way here, I witnessed Angmar's army marching southward to begin the invasion of Gondor. I rode here as fast as my horse would carry me. The army will be upon Isengard in one week."

"How many are there?" asked Saruman.

"I estimate around ten thousand. Half are orcs bred in Carn Dûm, and half are wicked men who serve Angmar in pursuit of power."

"What of the Witch-king?"

"He rides with his forces. He has no doubt heard of the White Wizard of Isengard, so I suspect that he will personally lead the assault on your domain."

This was getting worse and worse. Not only were Saruman's people vastly outnumbered, but now they would also have to face the might of the Witch-king of Angmar himself.

"How did it come to this?" Saruman wondered. "How did one of the strongest kingdoms in Middle-earth meet its doom at the hands of a single black magician from the North?"

"The men of Arnor were the architects of their own destruction," said Gandalf. "They let their petty conflicts get the better of them, and Angmar took advantage of it. They failed to see that there is no necessary conflict among men of reason. If they had seen the reality of their situation, they would have put aside their differences to vanquish the true enemy. I tried to teach them, my friend. I tried to make them see reason, but I have failed. Much might have been different if I had done better."

"It is not your fault, my friend," said Saruman. "The men of Arnor chose to ignore reality, and they paid the price for their mistake. It had nothing to do with you. However, now may be the time for you to help put an end to this destructive conflict, and even save my realm. I want you to travel to Minas Anor and tell the king that Arnor is no more, and that Isengard is about to be attacked. Gondor can look away no longer, lest all the lands of the West be dominated by evil."

"Of course," said Gandalf. "I should be back with the King's army just in time to save Isengard."

And with that, Gandalf went to retrieve his horse and rode off. Saruman withdrew to Orthanc and gazed into the Palantír, watching as the terrible horde of Angmar marched through the ruins of a once strong kingdom on its way to conquer another proud people.

Just as Gandalf had warned, the army of Angmar arrived in a week. Saruman stood on top of the battlements of the new wall that guarded the valley and saw the great horde that approached in the distance. It was nearly sunset, and he judged that they would reach the wall by nightfall. While the army marched ever closer to the Wizard's Vale, Saruman organized his soldiers into battle positions. There were three hundred total; one hundred were armed with spears, and the other two hundred had longbows as their primary weapons and swords as sidearms. All had steel helmets, shields, and plate armor. The longbowmen stood upon the battlements. The stairs leading that they used to get up to the top of the wall were hastily constructed, easily destructible wooden structures. The spearmen stood behind the gate, ready to fight off the enemy should they break down the gate.

By the time the sun went down and the Wizard's Vale was bathed in the half light of dusk beneath the rising moon, the horde of Angmar had stopped about fifty yards from the wall to get into battle formations. The orcs wore simple leather armor with bits of metal and wielded crude swords, but the men had iron plate armor, helmets, and higher quality swords and spears. A few bore banners depicting the emblem of the Iron Crown of Angmar. Saruman's own soldiers stood in silence, but they were clearly afraid. He took the time to walk through the ranks of his soldiers, making sure that they were all prepared.

"Now is the hour," he said to all of them. "This is the first test of Isengard's strength. Our enemy may be numerous, but they are just a mindless horde driven by the will of their mad king. You are the men of reason, of creativity, of production. You are the men of the mind. I have seen all that which you create and take pride in. Your businesses, your workshops, your textile mills, your farms. You created all of it, and you are entitled to the fruits of your own labor. But now these looters, these second-handers seek to take it from you. Do not let them, for if they desire your property, then it is ultimately your minds and your lives that they seek to control. So fight! Fight for your homes and your families. Fight for your rightful property. But ultimately, fight for yourselves!"

The soldiers looked less frightened and more determined now. Even as the orcs and men of Angmar assumed their formations and pressed onward to the wall, Saruman's men were not about to surrender. They gripped their bows tightly, looking as though they wanted to draw their swords and reach over the merlons of the battlements to smite the enemy.

The assault began as some of the men of Angmar brought several ladders while the orcs brought a battering ram. Before any of them could get close enough to the wall, Saruman raised his hand and issued his commands.

"Shoot the ones with the ram and the ladders first!" he shouted, and the longbowmen let loose their arrows. Two hundred shafts were lodged firmly in the enemies' flesh. The battering ram and ladders were dropped.

"Another volley!" shouted Saruman. "Fill the air with your darts!"

Two hundred more arrows flew from the bows, and two hundred more orcs and men were either killed or wounded. The warriors of Angmar started to prioritize picking up their siege equipment again. Although the archers of Isengard attempted to stop any attempt to carry the ladders and battering ram, there were far too many enemies, and the siege equipment inched closer and closer to the wall, being dropped by dead soldiers and then picked up again.

At last, the ladders were put up against the wall, and the battering ram was immediately in front of the gate. No matter how many the archers killed to prevent use of the ram and ladders, there were always more to replace the dead. The archers pushed the ladders back down whenever possible, only to see them be brought back up.

The first ones to successfully climb the ladders were the orcs. These were simple fighters, who attacked haphazardly with poorly balanced weapons. Saruman's archers drew their swords and dispatched them, easily slicing through the improvised leather armor. The orcs showed very poor combat skills, considering that this was the first time that Saruman's soldiers fought in battle. The vile creatures had always relied on strength in numbers to overwhelm their foes, but now they didin't even have that. Though there was a great army at their backs, there were only so many orcs that could be on the wall at any given time.

The orcs retreated to take over the breaking of the gate while the men took their place on the wall. They were more competent than the orcs and better equipped, but they were still used to claiming victory by numerical superiority. They had killed many armored knights of Arnor, but not with any actual skill. They attempted to cut through the armor of Saruman's warriors, but to no avail. The men of Isengard, however, gripped their swords with one hand on the grip and the other at the middle of the blade and drove the point into the gaps in the enemies' armor at the elbows, throat, knees, and shoulders. Others used used their swords backwards, gripping the blade with both hands and bashing with the cross guard and pommel, giving their enemies concussions. Saruman himself stepped in and used the mace-like crown of his staff to clobber them on their heads, denting their helmets and cracking their skulls.

Meanwhile, the orcs were able to beat against the gate with the battering ram now that the archers were occupied. After a dozen or so strikes, the gate was broken, and the orcs flooded in. The spearmen were already prepared. They were in a rectangular formation of two ranks and fifty files. The front rank kneeled while the back rank stood. Their shields formed a wall, and they pointed their spears through the gaps. The orcs charged, but many were impaled by the spears in the attempt. Those that succeeded in bypassing the spears were stopped by the shield wall, vainly trying to cut and bash their way through the sheets of metal, and none of them could survive long enough to get to the men behind the shields.

However, after a couple of hours of fighting, there were so many orcs throwing themselves into the fray that they were starting to climb over the spearmen. Saruman saw this and knew that his soldiers could not hold this position for much longer. If the spearmen fell, then the orcs would be able to get behind the wall and attack the rest of Saruman's forces from the rear.

"Retreat!" Saruman shouted. "Fall back to Isengard!"

The archers disengaged and ran down the stairs. Once they were all off of the wall, they broke the stairs so that Angmar's soldiers that were on the battlements could not get down quickly without dying or being injured. The spearmen broke formation, and all of Saruman's men ran off towards Isengard. They were able to quickly run through the trees, because they had Saruman's permission to go through the forest. The army of Angmar, however, was slowed. The spells and enchantments of the wizard confused them. Some were turned around, and others even mistook their friends for enemies and turned on each other.

The forces of Isengard traversed the several miles of forest to get to the fortress long before their adversaries did. They got inside and closed the gate, which was far stronger than the one that had been broken by the battering ram. The longbowmen sheathed their swords and positioned themselves on top of the Ringwall, while the spearmen once again waited at the gate. Saruman decided to wait with the spearmen this time.

It took several hours for the army of Angmar to finally arrive. Saruman's soldiers looked down at the forest below, and through the trees they could see their foes getting closer. The orcs and wicked men had forsaken the ladders and the battering ram because they were too difficult to transport through the rugged terrain of the forest. They prepared their bows and aimed up at the defenders. However, instead of shooting them, one man came forward from the rest of the army.

"If you wish to be spared," he yelled, "then bring out the wizard! We are servants of the Iron Crown, and we will fetch him from his hole if he does not come. Bring out the wizard!"

Saruman heard this, and as he climbed up the stone stairs to the battlements, one of his own soldiers responded.

"Saruman the White stays or comes at his own will," he said, and he was met with yells and jeers from the army of Angmar.

When Saruman reached the battlements, he looked down upon his adversaries and the man who had initiated the parley.

"What makes you think that you can bargain with me?" asked Saruman. "What makes you think that I want to bargain when you come armed to my door? You think that I am going to spare you. I am not the one who initiated the use of force. I am merely acting in retaliation. I grant you a choice, which is destruction, the only destruction that you have the right to choose: your own. Besides, you have nothing to bargain with. You have forsaken your siege tools, and there is no way for you to get in. You cannot starve us out, for we are self sustaining. Despite your vast numbers, you have nothing. Leave, for I am the Lord of Isengard, and I will not suffer you to enter."

Many of the men and orcs turned away, for the voice of the White Wizard had inspired fear and doubt in their hearts. But before anyone could leave, another voice was heard. It was deep, cold, and cruel, and it sounded like something that did not belong in the mortal world.

"Fools! Get back in formation, or I shall kill you myself." The voice came from a man riding a black horse. He wore dull iron armor over his black robes. He had iron gauntlets and boots. The robe had a hood that made it impossible to see the man's face, only blackness. Over the hood, he wore a terrifying iron mask that had a long, angular face that had a crown of spikes and tapered into a longer spike at the top.

The soldiers quickly got back into their positions as the horseman rode up to the gate and looked up at Saruman.

"You think that you are safe within your walls, but you are not. You say that you will not suffer my entrance, but I swear that you will suffer me. For I am the King of Angmar. I conquer and kill whomever I wish. I have come to do battle with the White Wizard and remove him from Isengard, and the fortress shall be added to my dominion. I shall break down your gates myself, and I will slaughter you and anyone who stands in my way."

Saruman's soldiers were frozen with fear of the Witch-king, the ancient terror who was now right before them in the flesh, threatening them before their eyes. Saruman looked down at the dark sorcerer with contempt and disgust rather than fear.

"So, the evil king of Carn Dûm deigns to show himself," said Saruman. "I am afraid that your reign ends here. Withdraw your guard, if you are indeed no craven, and I shall fight you myself." He turned his eyes to the East and saw that the sun was at last coming up, it's rays shining over the mountains.

"I will do no such thing," said the Witch-king. He raised his hand, and the gate was hit with an invisible force that made dents in the iron bars. "Open the gate, and I will spare your people. You will suffer me now!"

"Suffer this!" Saruman shouted as he thrust his staff down at the Witch-king, shooting a ball of fire that ignited the ground in front of the tyrannical warlord, barely missing him. The black horse bucked and backed away, and its master gave a horrific, ear-splitting scream of terror.

"The next one will be for your head," said Saruman.

Before the Witch-king could retaliate, there was a rumbling sound like thunder in the distance. Another sound was heard, the sound of two distinctly different horns. Saruman knew those horns, and he was filled with hope.

Peering through the trees, Saruman saw a great army coming up behind the Witch-king's army. The soldiers wore shining steel plate armor with chain mail underneath, and they wielded long, bright swords that cleaved their way through the ranks of Angmar. They bore the banner of Gondor. There was another, smaller group of warriors on horseback whose armor glittered like gold, and they ran the orcs and men through with long lances, and they bore the banner of Rivendell. Three horsemen led the charge. One was a very familiar-looking gray figure upon a brown horse, swinging a staff down upon the enemies' heads. One was also a familiar figure who rode a white horse and wore gold-colored armor and a red and gold cloak, wielding a sword with a curved blade. The third rode a white horse, and he was dressed in the finest Gondor armor with a black cloak, and upon his head he wore a silver crown not too different from that of the King of Gondor.

"Behold!" said Saruman in his joy. "The Gray Wizard has come again!" All his men cheered at their victory.

Angmar's forces had nowhere to run, and they were cut down by the charge of Gondor and Rivendell. The Witch-king turned away from Isengard and sped his horse southward out of the Wizard's Vale, heedless that he was now surrounded by enemies. The men and elves of Gondor and Rivendell could not stop his escape, for they were immobilized by shock and fear when he went by. He abandoned his minions to their doom. The dark army was swept aside like smoke driven by the wind, and to that valley the forces of Angmar returned never again.


	15. The Legend of Silver Steel

ChapterSo it was that in the light of a fair morning Saruman met the three riders who had led the charge at the base of Orthanc, and he invited them to walk with him in the shade of the trees. The elves and men of Rivendell and Gondor gathered Angmar's dead and burned them upon the rock of the mountains, and then they tended to Saruman's injured soldiers.

"It is fortunate that you arrived when you did, Gandalf," said Saruman. "Had you not come, Isengard would have surely fallen."

"I apologize that I did not come sooner," said Gandalf.

"It is forgiven, my friend," said Saruman. "The day is won with few losses, and that is what matters. But I must let our friend from Gondor introduce himself."

"I am Eärnur, Prince of Gondor," said the man with the silver crown. "When Gandalf came and told us of Angmar's attack, we knew that we had ignored that realm for too long, so my father sent me to lead our forces. I sent a messenger ahead to Rivendell to call Lord Elrond to arms, and here we are."

"At last I was able to muster the old strength of Rivendell," said Elrond. "And not a moment too soon."

"How many men did you bring, Prince Eärnur?" asked Saruman.

"I brought as many men as could be spared. Almost all of Minas Anor has been emptied of guards, save for the guards of the citadel."

The information somewhat troubled Saruman. He remembered the Blue Wizards' reports of the cult leader who wanted Rhûn to go to war against Gondor.

"If Gondor has so few soldiers left," said Saruman, "then you should finish your business with Angmar as quickly as possible. I have heard that there is trouble brewing in Rhûn, trouble that will ruin Gondor if we do not act quickly. You mustn't tarry here. I suspect that the Witch-king is retreating back to his lair of Carn Dûm. You must go there and finish him off before he can return with another army."

"Will you set out with us to Angmar?" asked Eärnur. "If what you say is true, then we will need as many warriors as possible in order to hasten the destruction of the witch realm."

"No," said Saruman. "My people barely survived the attack. They are not as well equipped as your armies, so we will not be of much use. Gandalf, you may stay here and rest if you wish. Our work is done."

"I think that I would like that," said Gandalf. "I have seen enough death for today."

"We will go on, then," said Elrond. "I have sent part of my army with my lieutenant, Glorfindel, to go ahead to destroy any of the Witch-king's forces between here and Angmar. We shall regroup with Glorfindel and put an end to this."

So Elrond and Eärnur mounted their horses and went off with their armies. Saruman's people celebrated their narrow victory with music and feasts, and the village upon Methedras was a merry place. The two wizards stayed in Orthanc to rest quietly.

That night, Saruman found himself unable to sleep. There was too much going on for his mind to be at ease. Isengard only had the numbers to just barely sustain an attack by Angmar, and now there was an impending attack from Rhûn if Alatar and Pallando were not successful. So, he got out of bed and went to the Palantír chamber where the only light was the moon shining through the windows, and he removed the black cloth that covered the Orthanc stone. He didn't expect Melian to be available at that hour, but it didn't hurt to try. He looked West to the Tower of Avallónë and saw inside the chamber of the Master Stone. To his pleasant surprise, he saw his sister waiting patiently in front of the Palantír. She sat in a large, very comfortable looking armchair, looking drowsy and only half awake. The former Queen of Doriath had forgone her usual elegant and colorful dresses in favor of a simple white nightgown, and her shoes were absent from her feet.

"Hello," said Saruman. "I didn't know if you would wanted to talk at this late hour, but I thought that it wouldn't hurt to find out."

Melian sat up straight and rubbed her eyes. "I'm always glad to talk with you. And I am relieved to see that you survived Angmar's attack."

"Barely," said Saruman. "Had it not been for Gandalf, my people would have surely died."

"Then it is a good thing that you were able to hold out as long as you did," said Melian.

"That is the problem," said Saruman. "My main objective in the battle was to survive until Gandalf arrived. There will come a time when Isengard is again called to arms, and I cannot expect that there will always be help. If another army of ten thousand attacks tomorrow, there will be no victory."

"Then you will need a larger army," said Melian.

"That isn't an option. The size of the population of my village does not allow for a larger army."

"Then you must outsmart your enemies. If you cannot overwhelm them with sheer numbers, then you must provide better training and equipment for your troops. What you want is quality over quantity. You are a master smith. I've seen you create incredible things. You have the potential to craft the best armor in all of Arda."

"There is only so much that even the best steel can do," said Saruman. "Even if I were to put huge amounts of time and effort into making the highest quality suit of armor that my hands could possibly produce, that armor would still succumb to repeated blows of hammers and maces, and a skilled opponent will aim for the gaps in the armor."

"Then you will need better metal," said Melian.

"The weapons and armor that I purchased were of the highest quality steel that Gondor had to offer. There is nothing better."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Dwarves are more at home digging in the mountains and the earth than anyone else, and they find extraordinary things in their extensive mining projects if they dig deep enough. I haven't seen Khazad-Dûm myself, but the legends tell of a vast wealth of mithril that the dwarves found when they delved far deeper into the earth than anyone had ever done before. You might see if you can buy some of their mithril."

"That isn't much of an option either," said Saruman. "You have only heard of the great mithril mines in Khazad-Dûm in the First Age. Things have changed. Nobody can say exactly what happened, but the dwarves fled from that place. I have read scrolls containing text that details the events, and the only thing that anyone can agree on is that a monster of shadow and flame killed King Durin VI and drove out his people. The dwarves call it Durin's Bane, and the elves of Lothlorien call it the Nameless Terror. I suspect that it is a dragon that coveted the wealth of the dwarves. Whatever it is, I do not wish to disturb it. Those mines have gone deserted for so long that it is now called Moria, the Dark Abyss."

"It shouldn't be too much of a problem if you just go in, get the mithril, and get out," said Melian.

"Such an undertaking would require me to bring workers to gather all the metal that I need, and that would surely draw the attention of the monster," said Saruman.

"Then it seems that you're going to have to get rid of this so-called Durin's Bane. I know that you can do it. You're the White Wizard, after all. Just have your workers wait outside of Moria while you go in and drive the beast away, and then you will have access to all the mithril you need."

"So you think that I should go into a place called the Dark Abyss to fight a monster that killed King Durin VI and that the elves call the Nameless Terror while my people wait outside with no way of knowing if I will come out alive?"

"Exactly," said Melian.

Saruman shrugged. "That seems reasonable. I will start gathering volunteers as soon as my people have recovered from the siege."

"You do that," said Melian. "Is there anything else that you wanted to talk about, since you went through the trouble of waking me up in the middle of the night?"

"Do you ever do anything else?" Saruman asked. "Seriously, every time I look into the Master Stone chamber, you're always right there waiting for me. Do you ever eat or tend to Vána's flowers? You must be terribly bored."

"Of course I eat," said Melian. "I have my meals with King Olwë and his family. I can't really go and see Vána because her home is far from Tol Eressea, and I want to stay here until you come home. And I'm not bored in the slightest. Avallónë is a wonderful city. It is you who is bored up in that dusty old tower of yours."

Saruman scoffed. "Orthanc is not just any dusty old tower. It is the pinnacle of ancient Numenorean architecture. Do you see what I did there? I said 'pinnacle,' like the Pinnacle of Orthanc."

"That wasn't clever at all," said Melian. "I think that's a sign that you need to go to bed."

"I think you're right," said Saruman. "Good night. When next you see me, I shall have become a slayer of ancient horrors."

"Don't get too full of yourself," said Melian. "Good night."

Saruman put the black cloth back over the Palantír and went back to bed. If Melian's idea worked, then the strength of the mithril would give Saruman and his people less to fear.

The next morning, Saruman took a stroll outside with Gandalf to talk about his plan to go into Moria.

"There is something that I need your help with," Saruman said to Gandalf as they walked in the gardens of Isengard, straying away from the paths in favor of wandering in random directions.

"And what would that be?" asked Gandalf.

"I will soon be taking some volunteers to go on a little mining expedition to Moria. The mithril within those mines will be useful if Isengard is to have any military strength with such a small host."

Gandalf had a look of fear and surprise on his face. "Moria? No. I will not go near that place except at the most desparate need. It would be folly to go mining in the resting place of an unknown monster that was able to destroy an entire dwarf kingdom."

"That," said Saruman, "is why I need you, my friend. The dwarves of Khazad-Dûm were unable to stop the beast, but we can defeat it together. It doesn't even matter what it is. What is a dragon or a mountain giant against two Maiar who were before the creation of the world? I will tell you what such a creature is. It is hopeless! It cannot defeat us."

"I'm not sure," said Gandalf. "Khazad-Dûm was among the mightiest of the dwarf kingdoms. It did not fall easily. Something of monstrous power destroyed it. We are probably better off not bothering it."

The wizards approached a peach tree that Saruman had planted years before and tended to personally. Saruman took two fruits from one of the branches and tossed one to Gandalf.

"I will not be made a slave to others," said Saruman. "The fruits of my effort must be my own to do with as I see fit. If someone else takes it upon himself to loot my belongings and use them for his own ends, then it is his belief that I exist for the sake of others. That is wrong. I work and labor for my own benefit, and I will not wait idly for some second-hander to take what rightfully belongs to me. My people also share this concern. They are not willing to let the products of their thought and effort be subjected to the whims of looters. That is why Isengard must be better defended." He took a bite of the peach.

"And what of this?" Gandalf asked, holding up his peach. "If you are as self-concerned as you say, then why did you give this to me? You do not take any pleasure when I indulge in the happiness of eating this peach." He bit off a piece of his fruit.

"You are my friend," said Saruman. "Of course I take pleasure in your happiness. I value the virtues of your character, and the things that I do for you that you would consider selfless are in response to your virtues. I take selfish pleasure in who you are, and the charitable acts that I do for you are payments for the values that you offer me."

"That seems reasonable," said Gandalf. "I don't think that I would want to be friends with someone if I wasn't getting anything out of the relationship."

"It is for this reason that I ask for your help in this task," said Saruman. "And it is because I must defend what is mine that I must perform this task."

"I will do it," said Gandalf. "I cannot enjoy your friendship if you perish the next time Isengard is attacked. Let us go and get that mithril."

"Thank you," said Saruman. "Soon, we will have the means to turn this small group of men into an army of few, yet mighty warriors."

 


	16. The Long Dark

In a matter of days, a team of fifty volunteers had been assembled to go to Moria. Most of them were those who had made their homes in the caves that had been dug in the rock of Methedras and mined the gold that was used as Isengard's currency, so they had some experience with mining. Saruman and Gandalf led the miners along with a few carts drawn by horses to transport the mithril northwards on the western side of the Misty Mountains. Saruman chose to enter Moria through the west gate rather than the east gate because he didn't want to go near Lothlorien and have Galadriel and Radagast pester him about the Necromancer.

They reached the foot of the Silvertine mountain in the night and found the Doors of Durin near the edge of a dark, still lake. The gate was flush against the mountainside and completely indistinguishable from the rock. The doors were only visible because of the moonlight reflecting off of the ithildin runes that marked the gate. Written on the gate was a Sindarin message that Saruman could not read. He had plenty of experience with the Quenya language, but he had spent very little time around the Sindar elves.

"I cannot read it," said Saruman. "Gandalf, you wandered far enough to have learned the Sindarin language. What does it say?"

Gandalf stood close to the doors to get a better look. "It says 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter. I Narvi made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs.' Well, I think that it is quite clear. If you are a friend, then you speak the password, and the doors will open."

"What is the password?" Saruman asked.

"Yes. Well, you see, um. . ." Gandalf fumbled for words before falling silent and shrugging.

"Damn it all," Saruman cursed. "Let's try and figure this out. This is obviously some kind of riddle. Let us examine what we know. On the doors, there is a depiction of the hammer and anvil of Durin, the Two Trees, and the star of the House of Fëanor. Celebrimbor was a grandson of Fëanor, who made the Silmarils from the light of the Two Trees during the time when Durin the Deathless was alive. The answer is something that has to do with all of those. What do they all have in common?"

"I don't know," said Gandalf. "I was hoping that you would know."

"Well, I don't know," said Saruman. "But I know that I can figure it out. I am a genius."

"You're not much of a genius if you can't even open a door," Gandalf remarked.

"Silence," Saruman said. "You will see. I am a genius."

Saruman leaned against the gate while Gandalf sat down on the ground. The men started setting up camp for the night. They brought with them food, mining equipment, weapons, and a few tents. Some of them started skipping stones across the lake to pass the time while the wizards pondered the riddle.

After a while, Saruman suddenly began rubbing his forehead in frustration and laughing in amusement. "I have it!" he cried. "Of course. It's deceptively simple. It really shouldn't have taken me that long to figure it out. Gandalf, what is the Sindarin word for friend?"

"Mellon," said Gandalf, and the doors slowly swung outward until they lay back against the rock, revealing a dark chamber.

"You plonker," said Saruman. "You made a translation error. It should have been 'say friend and enter.' It would have been so much easier if you had translated it correctly, and I would not have overthought it so much. But now you see that I was right. Ha ha! I am a genius! Come, now. Let us see what we can find."

They entered the chamber, and the white stone of Saruman's staff glowed to light up the darkness. A small crystal embedded in the crown of Gandalf's staff also glowed to help illuminate the chamber. The smooth stone floor, walls, and ceiling were completely bare and featureless. There was a long flight of stairs that went up into the mountain. Saruman led the way up the stairs. After two hundred steps, they came to an arched passage with a level floor leading on into the dark. The passage twisted around a few turns, and then began to descend. It went down for a long while before becoming level again. Here, there were many other passages that branched off of the main one. These revealed huge, cavernous ravines with walls that were lined with veins of bright, shimmering metal: mithril. The wizards did not turn from their path, thinking that Durin's Bane could be found by the way of the main passage. There were also many holes, cracks, fissures, and chasms in the walls and floor, and the sound of churning water came up from far below.

They had been walking for several hours when they came to a wide arch opening into three passages. They all went eastwards, but the left passage plunged down, the right climbed up, and the middle was level and narrow. The wizards searched the room for marks or inscriptions that might help, but there was nothing to be found.

"Which way should we go?" asked Gandalf.

"I don't know," said Saruman. "It's the Doors of Durin all over again, except the only solution is a complete guess, which is far worse than a riddle."

"I say we go right," said Gandalf. "I do not like the feel of the middle way, and I do not like the smell of the left-hand way."

Saruman was skeptical. "So you think that we should go right based on smell and feeling?"

"Yes," said Gandalf. "Call it intuition."

"That's not a good reason to do anything. Intuition is the opposite of reason and logic, and I am a man of reason and logic."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Saruman sighed. "Maybe you're right. Your guess is as good as mine. After all, we have a one-third chance of choosing the path that houses the Nameless Terror. Perhaps it is time we climb up again."

The path they had chosen went steadily upwards and grew wider. The floor was smooth and had no cracks or pits. The passage eventually led to a huge, empty hall. The vast roof was held up by many mighty pillars of stone. Three other entrances to the great hall lay to the east, north, and south.

"Well," said Gandalf, "we've come this far, and there's still no sign of the beast. How much farther do you think we should go?"

"We might stop here," Saruman answered. "I'd say that we are about halfway through the mines. It would be best to go no further. I want to be able to retreat to the west gate alive if we encounter Durin's Bane and cannot defeat it. We shall use some more light to see if it will take notice. Evil things hate light and will try to snuff it out."

The wizards let forth more light, and the crowns of their staves grew so bright that the entire hall was bathed in the white rays, casting shadows of the many pillars. The light even shone through all of the entrances, illuminating the pathways beyond.

For the purposes of both luring the creature as well as passing the time, Saruman decided to sing. Gandalf wasn't much of a singer, but he enjoyed listening to Saruman's strong, loud, gloriously deep voice that echoed off of the walls of the gargantuan room. The White Wizard sang songs of Doriath that Melian had shared with him. When Saruman finished his songs, Gandalf decided to recite a few poems that he had written while serving Manwë.

After a while, there was another light. It was not the white light of the wizards' staves, but the red light of fire. It came from the eastern door. The wizards backed away to the western entrance from which they came so that they might retreat if they needed to. There was a great, bellowing roar and the sound of the heavy, stomping footsteps of some enormous creature. There, coming through the eastern door, was a dark, shadowy figure that stood twenty feet tall. It seemed vaguely man-shape, but far more beastly and monstrous. Two great horns grew from its head, and two huge wings grew from its back. It was all black except for a mane of fire that blazed on its head, back, and tail.

It was then that Saruman realized his mistake. He had led Gandalf into Moria thinking that they, as Maiar, would have been able to win easily and handily, not knowing that their foe was another Maia. "Oh. A Balrog. Perhaps one of the last creatures of Angband. This will be a hard fight, indeed."

The wizards readied their staves in preparation for anything that the demon might try to do. When the Balrog was halfway across the chamber, it gave another roar, and its mane of fire spread until the monster's entire body was engulfed in flames. It raised its arm, and a massive sword made of fire appeared in its hand. Saruman raised his staff and created a magical spherical shield around him and Gandalf. Durin's Bane stomped over to the wizards and swung its sword down upon the shield. The sword was destroyed in a shower of sparks while Saruman and his shield stood firm. The Balrog took a step back, opened its mouth, and breathed a stream of fire upon the wizards. Saruman attempted to expand the shield to keep the fire as far away as possible, but he was beginning to tire. He dissolved the shield and ran to the left to avoid the fire while Gandalf dodged to the right. The Balrog turned to Saruman, perceiving him as the greater threat.

The demon advanced upon Saruman until he was backed into a corner. Gandalf took the opportunity to come up behind the Balrog and strike the back of its knee with his staff. There was a blast of magic behind the blow, causing the Balrog to fall onto its back with a roar of pain. Saruman smashed the Balrog in the head with the crown of his staff, and the Balrog's flames died out, leaving the demon black and shadowy once again.

Enraged, the Balrog swung its arm at the wizards, who got out of the way just in time. The blow missed and instead hit a nearby pillar and put a huge crack in it. That gave Saruman an idea. He stood just next to the pillar, holding his staff aloft to defend himself and waiting for Durin's Bane to attack. The Balrog swung its huge fist at Saruman, who again dodged the attack. The fist crashed into the pillar again, this time completely severing the pillar from the floor and ceiling. The pillar toppled over and fell on top of the Balrog with a tremendous crash and crumbled to pieces as it hit the ground, allowing Gandalf to get in another strike to the head and retreat before the Balrog got back up. The Balrog threw off the rubble and roared in anger with its fire springing back to life.

"We must destroy the pillars," said Saruman to Gandalf.

The Gray Wizard understood. "You intend to bury it," he said.

"That is the plan," said Saruman.

The Nameless Terror now produced a long, fiery whip. It swung the whip at the wizards, but missed and coiled around another pillar. The Balrog pulled hard, and the whip burned through the stone, causing the pillar to crumble. Gandalf retreated a fair distance away to the northern end of the chamber while using his staff to send a blinding beam of light at the Balrog to further enrage it. The Balrog stormed after Gandalf, smashing blindly at the surrounding pillars to try to extinguish the light. Meanwhile, Saruman got to work smashing pillars, striking with his staff in conjunction with huge blasts of magical energy.

The Balrog soon backed Gandalf up against a wall and started using its fire breath. Gandalf conjured a shield similar to Saruman's, but he was being overwhelmed. Saruman, having destroyed a good number of pillars, turned his attention to the Balrog. After seeing that the simple blasting strikes didn't do much against the monster, Saruman instead used a stronger spell. He pointed his staff at the Balrog, and the white stone unleashed a stream like lightning upon the eldritch abomination. The Balrog ceased to breath fire and bellowed in pain. Gandalf, his foe temporarily incapacitated, ran back to the west entrance along with Saruman.

The Balrog's fire burned bright with fury as it chased after them. Once the wizards were both in the west door, they used their staves to strike the wall of the huge chamber with all their might, giving every last bit of energy they had. The resulting crack went all the way up to the ceiling and spread all across the vast roof. The Balrog hurried to try and get to the door, but to no avail. The ceiling collapsed, depositing many tons of stone on top of the flame demon. In a matter of seconds, the Balrog was crushed, buried under the rubble.

Saruman and Gandalf stood at the end of the passage that had once opened up into a glorious hall, but now led to a great pile of stone. After getting a sufficient amount of rest, the wizards turned back the way they came. For many more hours they trudged through the long dark of Moria to tell the miners outside that the monster had been slain, and that the mithril was now theirs for the taking.


	17. A Broken Place

After many hours, Saruman and Gandalf came back out of the Doors of Durin. They told the men all that had happened, and that they were free to take as much mithril as they needed. The miners gathered their equipment and headed into the mines.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Gandalf.

"They are going to bring the mithril back to Isengard," said Saruman. "I am going to travel to Rivendell to ask Lord Elrond if the Witch-king and his armies have been thoroughly dealt with."

"I think that I am done with battles and armies and Balrogs for now," said Gandalf. "I am going to see what Radagast has been doing. His time in Middle-earth has undoubtedly been more peaceful than ours. Call upon me when you need my help again, and I will return."

So the wizards went their separate ways. Saruman traveled North until he reached Rivendell. The guards let him in without question, recognizing him as a friend of Elrond and the head of the White Council. He went to the Hall of Fire, knowing that Elrond went there often for solitary contemplation. Just as he suspected, the Lord of Rivendell sat there in his armchair in front of the fire. He turned to face Saruman, and there was a look bordering on hatred on his face.

"You are brave indeed to be showing your face to me, Saruman," said Elrond.

Saruman was perplexed at Elrond's tone. "Whatever is the matter? Have I done something to offend you?"

Elrond stood up. "You know damn well what you did! Nothing! You did nothing!"

"Nothing about what? Tell me what's going on."

"My wife, Celebrian, was traveling over the Pass of Caradhras when she was set upon by orcs. My sons went to rescue her, receiving no help from you. They brought her back alive, but her wounds were beyond my power to heal. She is sailing across the sea as we speak."

"What does this have to do with me?" Saruman asked.

"I know that you were in the area. You were near the Mountains of Moria. You could have helped. You could have sent a storm or caused an avalanche to force the orcs to turn back before it was too late."

"How was I supposed to know that this was happening? I was underground in the mines the entire time."

Elrond, in his fury, ignored Saruman's rebuttal. He grabbed the wizard by the collar of his robe and forced him against the wall.

"Is this not what you are here to do? To help? To prevent suffering? Celebrian has been taken away from me, and I don't know when or if I will see her again. I am the greatest healer in all of Middle-earth, and even I could not heal her. She is gone now!"

Elrond's voice started to crack, and tears formed in his eyes. He released Saruman and fell to his knees. "I don't know what I'm going to do now," he said in a pained whisper. "What will my children do without their mother?"

"Do not despair," said Saruman. "Celebrian still lives, and you may see her again someday. I know your pain."

"What do you know of my hardship?" asked Elrond. "You are not married. You do not know what it is like to love someone with such passion only to have them ripped away from you."

Saruman looked down upon Elrond. The sight of the great and powerful Elven Lord of Rivendell brought so low was heartbreaking. He helped Elrond to his feet and put the arm that was not holding his staff around him.

"While I may not have a wife, there is one in this world whom I care about above all others. When Melian came to Middle-earth and married Thingol, I was distraught. She was my best friend. The idea that she might have spent all of time away from me broke my heart. I was happy that she had found such joy with her husband, but it still pained me to be separated from her for so long."

"How did you do it?" asked Elrond through his tears. "If you loved your sister as much as I love Celebrian, how did you get by for so long without her?"

"I got by because I knew that it was better for her to go. She had a family, something she never would have had if she had stayed in Valinor. I kept going because I knew that she was happy. Know that Celebrian's departure for the best. If she stays here, she would die. This way, you will be able to see her again. Let that fact motivate you and keep you going. You two will be together again. That I promise you."

The two of them stood there for a little while, with Saruman holding Elrond, and Elrond crying on the wizard's shoulder. The only sounds that could be heard were the crackling of the fire and Elrond's quiet sobs, until the elf found his voice again.

"How can you promise me that? How do you know that she will be healed in Valinor? How do you know for sure?"

"You are right," said Saruman. "I do not know. But I know one who does. Come with me to Isengard. There is someone I would like you to meet."

Elrond dried his tears and nodded in compliance. Soon enough, they had fetched a pair of horses and were on their way South. They rode mostly without speaking to each other, until Elrond broke the silence as they neared the Wizard's Vale.

"Why did you come to Rivendell? My little outburst didn't give you much of a chance to explain your business. Sorry about that."

"It's quite alright," said Saruman. "I was going to ask if Angmar had been finished off."

"Yes," said Elrond. "Angmar is defeated, but the Witch-king escaped. My lieutenant, Glorfindel, personally led the final assault on Carn Dûm along with Prince Eärnur. Our enemy was far more dangerous than we realized. We thought that the Witch-king was a powerful, corrupted man with knowledge of sorcery. He is, in fact, a Nazgûl. He is the first of the Nine and the greatest of the servants of Sauron. In his final stand, he sat upon his black horse and realized that all hope was lost. Glorfindel tells me that he gave a terrifying scream of rage that sent the chill of winter down his spine. Eärnur struck out to chase him down, but Glorfindel stopped him, and the Witch-king fled into the shadows. The Lord of the Nazgûl will not return to his land, and not by the hand of man will he fall. So it was foretold by Glorfindel."

"A Ringwraith," said Saruman. "We need to find out where he went. For all we know, he could be regrouping with the other eight, and then they will be a force most terrible. But what disturbs me is that he won't go back to Angmar to raise his fell kingdom again. It seems almost too easy. There is something at work that is not yet seen, and, believe me, I am going to find out what it is."

By the time they arrived in Isengard, the miners had already returned with the mithril. The overseer of the mining operation awaited Saruman at the base of Orthanc with the horse-drawn carts that carried the mithril.

"Lord Saruman," said the overseer, "we collected all the mithril that our carts had room for."

"Good," said Saruman. "Bring a few pounds to my forge. I want to do a few experiments with it. Take the rest to the town's blacksmith. We will start smithing when I have come up with some weapon and armor designs."

The overseer repeated the instructions to the workers, and they went about their work while Saruman and Elrond entered Orthanc and went up to the second floor. The Palantír rested on its pedestal, concealed by the black cloth.

"Who is this person that you want me to meet?" asked Elrond.

Saruman removed the cloth, revealing the Orthanc Stone. "This is a Palantír, one of seven brought to Middle-earth by Elendil, and one of few that remain accounted for."

Elrond looked upon the Seeing-Stone in wonder, trying to see what it would show him. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Stand on the East side and look West," Saruman instructed. He stood next to Elrond to get a view. "You are looking across the sea for the Tower of Avallónë on the island of Tol Eressea. Can you see it?"

"I see it," said Elrond a after a few seconds of concentrating.

"Now look into the tower's highest room. Do you see someone near the Master Stone?"

"Yes."

"Excellent." Saruman then addressed his sister. "Hello, Melian. Look at who I've brought."

Melian, who was in her armchair and reading a book, looked up. "Who is this?"

"This is Elrond," said Saruman.

"Ah, yes," said Melian. "You've told me about him before. Hello, Lord Elrond. I am Melian, but I think that you've figured that out."

"Yes, indeed," said Elrond. "So you are my great-great grandmother?"

"Yes. I'm sorry about everything that happened to you in Beleriand. I know that I should have been more supportive of my family, but after my husband's death, I was just so tired. You must forgive me for leaving Middle-earth."

"It's alright," said Elrond. "I understand. I'm very tired myself."

"Which brings us to why we are here," said Saruman. "Elrond's wife, Celebrian was attacked recently. Her wounds could not be sufficiently treated, so has been sent over the sea to find healing in Valinor. I want you to take her in when she arrives. Care for her, and make sure that she gets better."

"You will watch over her, won't you?" asked Elrond. "You will make her live, right?"

"Elrond," said Melian, "I used to rule one of the most powerful kingdoms in all of Middle-earth, second perhaps only to Gondolin. I conjured the Girdle of Melian, which protected Doriath from the wrath of Morgoth. My power drove away even the mighty Ungoliant. My magic and healing kept the Kingdom of Doriath alive for many centuries. Trust me. This is nothing that I can't handle. Your wife will be perfectly fine after I've done my work."

"You may return here," said Saruman, "whenever you would like to see Celebrian. I will notify you when she is healthy again."

"Thank you," said Elrond through tears of joy. "Thank you both so much."

"Come, Elrond," said Saruman. "You must now go back home and tell your children what we have told you. You may bring them with you the next time you visit. They will surely be wanting to see their mother again."

Saruman brought Elrond back to the tower's entrance. Just before Elrond stepped out the door, Saruman put his hand on the elf's shoulder.

"You see? Celebrian will be just fine. I know that you can still carry on. You are Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, former lieutenant of Gil-galad, son of Eärendil. You can do this. Just look at me. I was without my sister for many, many centuries, and look at me now. I am still strong. I continued on with my service under Aulë. There was still much good in the world that kept me going. I'm still here. I can still smile. And the world is still a wonderful place. I need you to keep defending it, my friend."

"I will try," said Elrond. "Thank you."

After seeing off Elrond, Saruman returned to the Palantír chamber to speak with Melian privately.

"I really hope that you will be able to restore Celebrian's health," said Saruman. "You didn't see him when I visited him in Rivendell. He was absulutely furious that I couldn't help. I tried to explain to him that I didn't even know what was happening at the time, but he just wouldn't listen."

"I wouldn't hold it against him," said Melian. "People tend to get irrational when such things happen."

"I know," said Saruman. "But all is well now."

"I'm honestly quite surprised to see that you have friends," said Melian in a dry, sarcastic tone. "I didn't think that a weird recluse like you would have friends."

"Silence," said Saruman. "I am the White Wizard. I know what's best. Who wouldn't want to be friends with a weird recluse like me?"

"Elrond, if his wife died. He would wring your neck if that happened. But, luckily, you have me, so that won't happen."

"Yes, of course," said Saruman. "Just make sure that it gets done."

"You have a job to do, too," said Melian. "There is good in the world, but what happened to Celebrian is what happens when the evil wins. That's why you need to keep at it, Saruman. Despite all the good, the evil has made the world a broken place. Make it better."

"I will," said Saruman. "I'm trying."

 


	18. A Dark Plot Unfolds

The following day, Saruman began his experiments with the mithril in his forge. He found that the legends of mithril's lightness and strength proved to be true. It was very hard and tough, and it could not be broken. Saruman had to heat the metal to extreme temperatures to be able to bend it. He also found that any given volume of mithril was almost weightless compared to the same volume in iron or steel. When he designed his soldiers' equipment, he made drawings to help with the design process.

The first order of business was armor, which turned out to be easy enough to design. Saruman settled on a suit of mithril plate armor worn over mithril chain mail. These would be worn over a padded leather jacket to protect from maces and war hammers. The helmet took inspiration from the helmets of Gondor soldiers, but it was fully enclosed rather than having an open face. The finished armor design would turn the wearer into a nearly unstoppable juggernaut while having uninhibited movement, due to the lightness and tremendous strength of the mithril.

Coming up with good weapons proved more difficult. Saruman did not have very many soldiers, so he wanted a combination of weapons that would strike a balance between offense and defense. So, he decided that there would be three classes of soldiers, each wielding different weapons.

The first would have large shields and one handed spears. The spear would be about as tall as the wielder, and the shield would bear the image of the White Hand of Saruman.

The second class of soldiers would have a a specialized polearm weapon similar in length to the spears. It consisted of a hammer head and long spike mounted on top of a pole. On the back of the hammer head was another spike that could be used for hooking and puncturing armor. The hammer head was not blunt, but was split into four prongs.

For the third class of soldiers, Saruman designed a massive sword larger than any that had been made before. It's length was equal to the height of the wielder, and it acquired more characteristics of a polearm than a sword. It had a very long grip for more control and maneuverability, as well as a long cross guard and a large pommel. There was a pair of large rings attached to either side of the guard for extra hand protection. The six inches of the blade closest to the hilt was blunt so that it could be gripped for more control, and at the top of the blunt part of the blade was a smaller secondary cross guard. Saruman decided that he would give these monstrosities to his most elite, best trained and experienced warriors. They would be his personal guards, and he would call them the Guards of Orthanc.

Now that the Army of the White Hand was well on its way to being properly equipped, Saruman decided to call a meeting of the White Council and his fellow wizards. He sent out his nightingale, and, after many months, Gandalf, Radagast, Alatar, Pallando, Elrond, and Galadriel were all gathered in Isengard. Gandalf now had a long pipe in his mouth and was smoking a sweet-smelling herb. Pallando's robe now had more Eastern influences, and it was decorated with red accents. They all met in Saruman's dining room.

"There are certain things that must now be discussed," Saruman began. "First of all, the power of Gondor has diminished quite a bit. After the Witch-King fled from Carn Dûm, he disappeared. Soon after, the Easterlings of Rhûn launched an attack on Gondor. Eärnur's army got back from Angmar just in time to stop the invasion."

Pallando received several accusing glances.

"I am sorry," said the Blue Wizard. "I did everything I could to stop that dark sorcerer, but he held too much sway over the men of Rhûn. He got exactly what he wanted, and he disappeared after the attack was launched."

"It is alright, my friend," said Saruman. "If you could not stop him, then I don't think that there was much that could have been done. But that is not the worst of it. After Gondor suffered such an attack, the Witch-king reappeared with the other eight Nazgûl, as well as a legion of orcs. They assaulted and captured the fortress city of Minas Ithil. That place has been tainted by the Ringwraiths' foul magic, and it is now called Minas Morgul. In response, Minas Anor has been renamed Minas Tirith, the Tower of the Guard."

"This is most troubling indeed," said Elrond. "That gives them direct access to Mordor, which they will surely open up for their master if we are not careful. The defenses at the Black Gate must be strengthened."

"It also means that the search for Sauron must continue," said Saruman. "It is clear to me that this is Sauron's plan to get back to Mordor. He commanded the Nine to take Minas Ithil, and now he waits for the right time to make his move. And it only gets worse from there, I'm afraid. The Witch-king challenged Eärnur to a duel. Eärnur rode off to Minas Morgul and has not been seen or heard from since. He had no children. Gondor is now without a king, and it will be ruled by the stewards from now on."

"But the bloodline of Elendil still continues," said Elrond. "The Dunedain who are descended from the last King of Arnor still survive in the North, though their kingdom is destroyed. Extra measures will have to be taken to ensure that the agents of the Dark Lord do not find out about them."

"You said that all of the Nazgûl reappeared with the Witch-king," said Pallando. "I think that explains the sorcerer in Rhûn. He is one of the Ringwraiths. How could I have missed the signs? His ring is not a lesser ring, and it was not stolen. It was given to him by Sauron. He was right there in front of me the entire time, and I let him instigate an invasion and escape."

"Does this mean that all is lost?" asked Alatar. "Gondor has suffered a tremendous blow, the Nine have regrouped and are now near untouchable in their new fortress, and they have unrestricted passage into Mordor."

"No," said Saruman. "We still have a chance to ensure that Sauron does not get back into Mordor. As long as the Black Gate still stands and the garrison at the ruins of Osgiliath block passage to Minas Morgul, it will be very difficult for Sauron to return to his land."

"Gondor also has rangers patrolling all roads in Ithilien," said Gandalf. "That combined with the garrison at Osgiliath will make sure that nobody goes near Minas Morgul without encountering resistance from Gondor."

"Now," said Saruman, "on to the next thing that I would like to address. I could have done this in the past, but I wanted to wait until I could speak with Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel all at once. What kind of a fool do you take me for?"

Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel exchanged nervous glances, startled at Saruman's harsh and accusing tone.

"I assure you," said Gandalf, "you are no fool to us. Not in the slightest."

"Well," said Galadriel, "maybe a little bit. What are you getting so upset over?"

Saruman furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance. He stood up from his chair and walked over to where Galadriel sat. He grabbed her by the wrist and held up her hand to see her ring.

"This ring!" he growled. "And you two possess rings of similar nature," he said, pointing to Gandalf and Elrond.

"What exactly is this about?" asked Radagast.

"These three rings are Vilya, Narya, and Nenya," said Saruman. "They are the three Elven rings crafted by Celebrimbor, and you three thought that it would be a good idea to keep this a secret from me, didn't you?" He released Galadriel and sat back down in his chair.

"I must say that I'm with Saruman," said Alatar. "Why is it that you have these great assets about which we have not been told?"

"You didn't bother to tell Alatar, Pallando, Radagast, or myself," said Saruman. "Especially myself. Who knows Sauron best out of all of us? Who here best knows his little tricks and the inner workings of his magic? I could have been of greater help if you had been more open with me. I could teach you things about the Three Rings."

"How did you know about this?" asked Gandalf.

"I found an ancient book in Osgiliath long ago before it was destroyed. It was a first hand account of the making of the Rings of Power, complete with illustrations of rings that I caught glimpses of when I met Círdan, Elrond, and Galadriel. It even explicitly stated that Vilya and Narya were given to Gil-galad. To whom would he have given them before he died? His most trusted lieutenants: Círdan and Elrond. When we first arrived at the Gray Havens, Círdan was wearing a ring. As we were leaving the docks, I turned back and saw Gandalf and Círdan loitering about, deep in conversation. At first, I thought that you were merely shaking hands. When we reached Círdan's home, he no longer had the ring."

"I am sorry," said Elrond. "We mustn't speak of the Three except when necessary. Sauron does not know who has them, and we would prefer to keep it that way. In fact, I propose that we put away the Rings until they are absolutely needed. All the people who need to know about the Rings have now been told, so we needn't speak of this again."

"Very well," said Saruman as Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel removed their Rings and put them away in their pockets. "Maybe my knowledge of the Rings will not be so useful after all."

"You must forgive us," said Elrond, "but we had to make sure that this information never reached the ears of the Dark Lord's spies."

"Well, there are no spies of Sauron in Isengard," said Saruman. "From now on, there will be complete honesty between us. There will be no secrets concerning matters of such importance. Do we all agree?"

All the members of the White Council said "yes."

"Good," said Saruman. "Now, is there anything else that we should talk about?"

"Well," said Radagast, "the Necromancer in Dol Guldur still hasn't been taken care of."

The words made Saruman want to rip his own beard out. "Again with the Necromancer. For the last time, it's not important."

"But it is," said Galadriel. "Do you not think that a dark sorcerer poses a serious threat? You never hesitated to encourage fighting the Witch-king and the Nazgûl in Rhûn. What makes the Necromancer any different than them?"

"The difference," said Saruman, "is that the Necromancer has done nothing to warrant attacking him. The Witch-king destroyed an entire kingdom and was about to destroy another had he not been stopped. The sorcerer from Rhûn convinced the Easterlings to invade Gondor. That is what made them serious threats, and they still continue to be serious threats. Being a practitioner of black magic does not make one worth my time by default. Come back when this Necromancer has committed genocide against Thranduil's people. Until then, we are done here."

They all got up, and Saruman showed them to the front door. Galadriel led the way out of Orthanc, eager to be away from Saruman. The White Wizard went upstairs to the Palantír chamber and practically threw the black cloth off of the Orthanc Stone.

"What an insufferable woman," he said.

"Is it Galadriel?" asked Melian.

"She won't stop going on about the damned Necromancer, thinking that attacking him will accomplish anything. She and Radagast agree with each other! Who would agree with either of them? How did you put up with her for so long? Tell me your secrets!"

"You know," said Melian, "it's actually quite funny to see you so irritated. What else do you want to ramble about?"

"I told them that I knew about the Three Rings. I suppose that I was being too harsh. I was just feeling really frustrated. I hope that I haven't ruined my friendship with Elrond and Gandalf."

"It'll be fine. They're nice people. I'm sure that they understand."

"Enough of that," said Saruman. "On to the more important matters. The Kings of Gondor are no more, and the Ringwraiths have taken Minas Ithil. What do you propose I do now?"

"Well," said Melian, "I suggest you continue looking for Sauron, and keep a close watch on Mordor. I fear that the glory days of Gondor are now past, and you are going to have to take extra caution."


	19. The Rise of a New Power

In the following years, Saruman continued his search for Sauron and kept a close watch on Mordor. He saw several Stewards of Gondor come and go. The population of northern Gondor, the vast fields of Calenardhon, declined. Easterlings of Rhûn continued to harass not only Gondor, but also the Éothéod, old allies of Gondor from the North.

The population and prosperity of Isengard grew to where it could support an army of one thousand. The blacksmith slowly but surely produced weapons and armor of Saruman's designs to arm the soldiers, and the White Hand of Saruman was emblazoned on all of the breastplates. Saruman also designed a crossbow made of a particularly flexible mithril alloy, and the crossbowmen shooting them would be no less armored than anyone else in the army. Additionally, all soldiers were given a one-handed arming sword as a sidearm. By this point, the army of Isengard was recognized as one of the best equipped forces in the world.

During the reign of the steward Cirion, Saruman was approached by a messenger from Minas Tirith.

"Gondor requests your aid," said the messenger. "A vast army of Easterlings is about to attack, and we need all the men that can be spared."

"Where is this army?" asked Saruman.

"They have invaded Calenardhon, and we will engage them on the Field of Celebrant," said the messenger.

"Would it not be better to wait at Minas Tirith so that I can arrive in time?"

"The invasion must be stopped now, and we have no time to wait on our allies. The Easterlings may be more numerous than our warriors, but we will meet them in battle nonetheless."

With that, the messenger rode off. Saruman then ordered the arming of his one thousand warriors. There were three hundred polearms, three hundred spears, three hundred crossbows, and one hundred Guards of Orthanc armed with greatswords. He summoned them to meet outside of Orthanc where he addressed them.

"I have called you to arms," he said, "to defend our friends and neighbors of Gondor. The Easterlings' repeated assaults have greatly weakened Gondor, and some of the last of their armies are about to meet the Easterling hordes in battle. It is unlikely that we will save Cirion and his men, but we can avenge him by stopping Rhûn's attack."

The soldiers were disquieted knowing that they could not save the army of Gondor, but they were not about to lay down their weapons.

"Cirion will engage the Easterlings on the Field of Celebrant," Saruman continued. "If you will accompany me, we will go there now. However, even with our mighty arms and armor, I cannot guarantee that we will be able to stop them. They have many thousands, vastly outnumbering us. If you do not want to fight, that is fine by me. I will go alone if I must."

Still the soldiers did not abandon their lord. Instead, without even being ordered, they assumed marching formation, ready for Saruman to lead them. The wizard fetched himself a horse and led the army out of Isengard.

They traveled South out of the Wizard's Vale, and then North along the East side of the Misty Mountains. After a few days of travel, they came upon the Field of Celebrant, just South of Lothlorien. By the time they arrived, the fighting had already begun and was close to being finished. Cirion was down to his last few thousand men, desperately trying to keep a steady line of battle. Against them were many thousands of mounted Easterling warriors. Some of them had spears and swords, but most had bows. The horse archers were swirling, irregular lines of warriors, all moving left and right and in circles while shooting a constant rain of arrows.

The Army of the White Hand came up to secure Gondor's line of battle. The crossbowmen were positioned at the back, the polearms at the flanks, and the spearmen and Guards of Orthanc at the front in the middle.

Saruman found the Steward of Gondor in the front rank of soldiers and rode up to him.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Cirion.

"I'm sorry that I could not get here sooner," said Saruman.

"I think that it may already be too late," said Cirion. "Their charges are fast and powerful. The horse archers can hit us long before we can get close to them, and they're already gone by the time we get there."

Determined to crush Saruman's army as quickly as possible, the cavalrymen armed with spears and swords charged forward. The crossbows of Isengard let off a volley, and the rest of Saruman's men made short work of the cavalrymen who survived the storm of crossbow bolts.

Now the army of Rhûn could rely only on mounted archers. Saruman was on a strong, fast horse, but he dared not take on the horse archers by himself without the support of his unmounted men. He led his army forward, but the Easterlings retreated too quickly for Saruman to be able to attack. The men of Rhûn were able to simply ride around in circles while constantly loosing arrows upon the men of the West. Though Saruman's warriors wore armor unequalled by any in Middle-earth, the horse archers got a few lucky shots through the visors every now and then.

The battle was going absolutely nowhere. There was no way that the men of Isengard and Gondor could possibly get close enough to attack, and they were slowly being picked off one by one. The horse archers of Rhûn were always just out of reach, and Saruman's forces were slowly but surely dwindling.

Then, there were the sounds of horns. They were not familiar to Saruman. They were not of Gondor, Rhûn, or any Elven kingdoms. Saruman looked ahead beyond the Easterlings, and, unexpected and not looked for, a vast army of riders came from the North. The charge was swift and terrible. The Easterlings were helpless against the new combatants, and the ones that were not slaughtered fled as fast as their horses could carry them.

When the fighting was over, the leader of the riders from the North, a remarkably young man for a valiant military leader, dismounted and approached Cirion and Saruman.

"I am Eorl, Lord of the Éothéod," he said. "I recieved a message saying that Gondor was in dire peril, and so I have come."

Cirion, filled with joy and relief, pulled Eorl into a warm embrace. "Thank you! There are no words for the great importance of what you have done here today."

"Yes, quite," said Saruman as Cirion released Eorl. "I was sure that army's superb equipment would let us win without a problem, but I was wrong."

"Well," said Cirion, "what does it matter? The invading army is vanquished, and Gondor is saved, and that's what matters. But now you must tell us how we may thank you, Eorl."

"I have gold," said Saruman. "The Easterlings have destroyed your people's homes, and I can give you sufficient funds to rebuild."

"No," said Cirion. "I have a better idea. The vast plains of Calenardhon in Northern Gondor have been almost entirely depopulated. Your people are numerous and will need room to expand. So, I propose that Calenardhon should be given over to the Éothéod."

"Yes," said Eorl. "And in return, I promise that whenever either Gondor or Isengard is threatened, my people will ride to your aid. Let it be that the Oath of Eorl will never be broken."

"And we swear the same oath to you," said Saruman. "I can see that you will be a most valuable ally indeed."

 


	20. Greatness in Simplicity

After the final failed Easterling invasion, Calenardhon became the Kingdom of Rohan, realm of the horse-lords, and Eorl was its first king. In time, the new kingdom grew in wealth and prosperity, and the Rohirrim were renowned all across Middle-earth for their breeding of the finest horses the world had known. For many years, they were good allies with Gondor and Isengard.

Saruman saw greatness in the Rohirrim, who would hopefully make up for Gondor's waning power. They would also make up for the weaknesses of Isengard. The Army of the White Hand was composed exclusively of infantrymen, so Rohan would have to act as Isengard's cavalry.

However, not all was well. When reflecting on the Ringwraiths' takeover of Minas Morgul, Saruman remembered that the city had a Palantír. The Nazgûl now had the Ithil Stone, which meant that they had access to the same far-reaching vision that Saruman had. Of course, it wasn't as though Saruman was trying to hide like Sauron. Rather, he was concerned that they might overhear his war plans and battle strategies. It also occurred to Saruman that there were only three Palantíri useful to the Free Peoples left in Middle-earth: the stones of Orthanc, Ellosterion, and Minas Tirith.

Saruman sometimes recieved visits from Elrond, who brought his children, Arwen, Elledan, and Elrohir, to talk to their mother through the Orthanc Stone. Saruman did not wish to intrude upon their reunion with Celebrian, so he was often in his study or his forge while Elrond and his children used the Palantír.

Gandalf also visited occasionally, and he was always smoking that pipe of his. Saruman became curious as to how Gandalf smoking those strange herbs.

"You've been smoking for a very long time," said Saruman. "When did you start doing that?"

"The herbs and pipe were given to me by the Hobbits of the Shire," said Gandalf.

The words 'hobbit' and 'Shire' were foreign to Saruman. "Who? What?"

"The Shire is a pleasant country in Eriador. Some hundreds of years after the fall of Arnor, I went back there to see if anything had been going on, and the Shire was just suddenly there. I don't know when the Hobbits settled there. One day I just stumbled across a few small towns that hadn't been there before."

"So there is a new kingdom in what was once Arnor?" asked Saruman. "Splendid. It is good to know that that great land has not been completely abandoned. Tell me, are these Hobbits willing to help us in the struggle against Sauron's forces? What is a Hobbit anyway?"

"The Shire is no kingdom," said Gandalf. "It is a small, simple, peaceful place. Hobbits are quite gentle little folk. They are somewhat similar in form to men and elves, but they are smaller than dwarves. They do not concern themselves with the troubles of war and politics. They appreciate simple things, like good food, a well tended garden, a warm hearth, and, yes, smoking."

"How pedestrian," said Saruman. "Small people who don't do much of anything interesting. Why is it you spend time there?"

"It would be better for me to show you," said Gandalf. "Come. We're going to go on a little trip."

"No, no," Saruman protested. "I'd rather not."

"I insist. Come on. You're going to stop being so uptight about your battle plans and black smithing, and learn to relax once in a while."

Saruman wasn't in the mood to argue, so he set off with Gandalf out to the almost entirely deserted lands of Eriador. Once, there were many people on the roads, traveling from city to glorious city. But now the roads were empty.

Eventually, they came upon a place that was familiar to Saruman. It was a pleasant place of grassy fields, rolling hills, and little rivers that the wizards had passed over a thousand years earlier after they left the Gray Havens. Now, it was very different. There was a small community built there, with houses and merchants and farms. The hills had many circular doorways, as though people lived inside of them.

Gandalf led the way into the town. It was inhabited by the tiny, child sized people that Gandalf had described. They had very large feet and brightly colored, homely clothing. Many of them were giving the wizards distrustful and suspicious looks. One notably large Hobbit, just over four feet tall, noticed the wizards and strode over to them with a happy grin.

"Gandalf! It's good to see you. Who's your friend?"

"This is my fellow wizard, Saruman the White. Saruman, meet Bandobras Took."

The Hobbit extended his hand up to Saruman, and they shook hands. "Charmed," said Saruman.

"I've been hoping that you would come back soon," said Bandobras. "I've finally finished clearing out those bushes behind my house. We can start playing golf now. Come on. Let me show it to you."

Saruman and Gandalf followed Bandobras through the little village. Upon closer inspection, the holes in the sides of the hills turned out to be lovely entrances to warm homes with well kept porches. The largest door must have been the entrance to the home of the comparatively huge Bandobras. They went around to the other side of the hill to a large clearing with a few small ponds and trees scattered about.

"What is it we're doing?" asked Saruman.

"We're playing golf," said Bandobras. "It's a game that I invented. You must let me tell you the thrilling tale about how I came up with it. A few months ago, a band of goblins was threatening our homes. So, we gathered as many fighters as we could, and we went out to meet them. Thus, the Battle of Greenfields had begun. When we cleaved our way through the goblins, we saw their cowardly king, Golfimbul, hiding behind his rabble of minions, barking orders to his little underlings. I myself led the final charge against him, riding a full sized horse. I swung my club so hard, I knocked Golfimbul's head clean off. It sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And so the battle was won."

"And you came up with a game based on this?" asked Saruman.

Bandobras picked up a small ball and a club with a long, narrow handle and a large head. "Yes. What you do is you take this club, and you try to hit the ball into that itty bitty little hole way over there." He pointed to a flag some fifty yards away that marked a small hole.

"Into that tiny hole at that distance?" said Saruman. "In a single swing?"

"Of course not. First, you give the ball a great mighty wallop to get it closer to the hole. As you get closer, you go for littler, more controlled hits. The goal is to get it in the hole with as few hits as possible. I still consider myself the ultimate champion of golf, since what I did in the Battle of Greenfields."

"Have you been practicing this?" asked Gandalf. "You could have just used that field near Michel Delving that we played at before."

"I did for a little bit," said Bandobras. "But I decided to spend time clearing this place out so that I could play closer to my home. Last I played, I did it in five hits."

"So you were finally able to match me," said Gandalf. "Unfortunately, I don't think that I'll do as well now since I'm a bit out of practice."

"Would you like to try it, Mr. Saruman?" asked Bandobras.

"I might as well," said Saruman. Bandobras set the ball on the ground, took Saruman's staff, and handed him the club. Bandobras and Gandalf stepped back as Saruman swung at the ball, and it was sent about two thirds of the way to the hole. Saruman strode over to the ball and took a lighter swing, and the ball sailed a little way beyond the hole. He took an even lighter swing, and the ball ended up inches from the hole. Saruman hit the ball with a small tap, and the ball fell into the hole.

Gandalf and Bandobras gave a small round of applause. "Four swings, eh?" said the Hobbit. "You should try playing with an even greater distance. That'll make it more fun."

Saruman gave the club back to Bandobras, who returned the staff to the wizard. "Well, wasn't that lovely?" said Saruman. "Anything else before we get on our way?"

"Now, before you go," said Bandobras, "you've got to stay for dinner with me and my friends. Good ol' Stewart says he's bringing his wine, and let me tell you, it's the finest wine you ever did drink."

"Of course we will," said Gandalf before Saruman could object. Saruman did not put up much resistance, wanting to go, but not seeing any real harm in staying for a while longer.

Bandobras led them to his front door and welcomed them inside. The doorway was so small that the wizards had to duck to get through. The low ceiling made them feel claustrophobic, especially for Saruman with his tall frame. The place was clean and well furnished, with a cozy feel to it. Bandobras took the wizards' staves and put them on his couch. He led them to the dining room where three other Hobbits smoking pipes waited at a table with a huge meal.

"Sorry about the wait," said Bandobras. "I was just showing our guests the golf course out back."

"Well, you came just in time," said one of the Hobbits. "We were just about to start eating without you. Come on and have a seat."

Bandobras sat down at the table and bid the wizards to have a seat. "I just came across Gandalf and his friend Saruman, and I figured they might have dinner with us. Where's Ferumbras? I was hoping that I might get the Thain of the Shire to meet our wizard friends."

"You won't believe the good news," said one of the Hobbits. "Your big brother Ferumbras just became a grandfather! He couldn't come today because he wanted to see the little baby Gerontius."

"Oh ho!" exclaimed Gandalf. "You'll have to tell him congratulations for me."

"It's a shame that none of our other neighbors take too kindly to you, Gandalf," said Bandobras. "Even Saruman got a bunch of weird looks just by resembling you. We Tooks always were the wily ones, going on adventures and befriending wizards."

"Wizards and adventuring are looked down upon?" questioned Saruman. "Do your neighbors just have something against extraordinary things?"

"The Shire is a land of familiarity," said Bandobras. "But we of the Took family take pride in doing things that are out of the ordinary. But enough talk. Let's feast!"

So they all took part in the meal, which was simple, but delightful. Even Saruman, who could afford professionally made banquets made by expert cooks, couldn't deny that there was much to be enjoyed in this simple meal. The wine, as Bandobras had claimed earlier, was particularly good. The one called Stewart made sure to tell everyone present that he was the best wine maker in the Shire. There was much conversing and singing, but Saruman said little for the most part.

"Hey," said Stewart, "let's hear Saruman sing!"

"Yeah, sing us a song!" said Bandobras.

"Now, I really don't think..." Saruman started before being interrupted by Gandalf.

"You don't need to be the formal lord all the time. This is quite a merry gathering. Now, let us hear that mighty voice of yours. And don't sing a song about the ancient kingdoms and battles of old. We're here to have a bit of fun."

Saruman thought for a few moments about what he could sing that would be appropriate, before settling on a merry folk song.

_"There was a tinker lived of late,_   
_Who walked the streets of Rye._   
_He bore his pack upon his back,_   
_Patches and plugs did cry._   
_O, I have brass within my bag,_   
_My hammer's full of metal,_   
_And as to skill, I well can clout,_   
_And mend a broken kettle._

_A maiden did this tinker meet,_   
_And to him boldly say,_   
_For sure, my kettle hath much need,_   
_If you will pass my way._   
_She took the tinker by the hand,_   
_And led him to her door,_   
_Says she, my kettle I will show,_   
_And you can clout it sure._

_For patching and plugging is his delight,_   
_His work goes forward, day and night._

_Fair maid says he, your kettle's cracked,_   
_The cause is plainly told._   
_There hath so many nails been drove,_   
_Mine own could not take hold._   
_Says she, it hath endured some knocks,_   
_And more it may I know,_   
_I'm sure a large, large nail will hold,_   
_If it was struck in so._

_For patching and plugging is his delight,_   
_His work goes forward, day and night."_

Gandalf and the Hobbits gave a round of applause, laughing merrily.

"It's strange but amazing to hear such a lordly voice singing about a tinker "fixing a woman's kettle," if you know what I mean," said Bandobras.

"Thank you," said Saruman. "It was my pleasure."

"Well," said Gandalf, "I think that Saruman has had enough fun for one day. We should probably be going now. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," said the Hobbits, and the wizards retrieved their staves and were out the door.

"So, what did you think?" asked Gandalf as they made the journey out of the Shire.

"It was fascinating," said Saruman. "They are not a mighty people who have made history, but there is something about them that I find very profound. I think that it is the smoking. Such small people are very great, despite their simplicity, because of what they do with fire. Fire, a dangerous force, tamed at their fingertips. I tame fire to make it do work, to shape metal. The Hobbits tame fire for pleasure. It is a pleasure that does not require sacrifice. For this, I respect them. And golf is also very interesting. I think I might start playing it at Isengard sometime. Thank you for showing me this. I know that I might seem pompous and arrogant sometimes, but I really do appreciate simple activities done just for fun."

So the wizards left the Shire. Saruman could not see anything important coming out of it, but he respected its inhabitants and their daily activities.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Saruman sings is called The Tinker of Rye. It's from the 1973 film The Wicker Man, which is vastly superior to the 2006 remake. It stars Christopher Lee, who played Saruman in the Lord of the Rings, as Lord Summerisle. He sings this song as a duet with Diane Cilento with both of them in evening wear and him at the grand piano. It's glorious.


	21. The Virtue of Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of social and political commentary that I wrote after I promised a response to a reviewer on fanfiction.net. Take my opinions with a grain of salt.

Over the following decades, Saruman became very busy, between resuming his hunt for Sauron, maintaining the Army of the White Hand, and keeping a good alliance and trade partnership with the Stewards of Gondor and the Kings of Rohan. However, he also had occasional visits from Elrond and Gandalf, and he even spared himself a little time to play golf. He cleared out an area to the west of Isengard to use it as a golf course. He also made his own clubs out of metal with heads of varying sizes.

One day, Saruman was visited by Gandalf, Elrond, and Radagast. Elrond brought his children, and the four of them went to Orthanc to see Celebrian. Gandalf and Radagast stayed outside with Saruman to watch him play a round of golf while talking about matters of varying degrees of importance.

"So," said Saruman as he prepared for his first stroke, "what news from the Greenwood?"

"Much the same as usual for the most part," said Radagast. "Although the same can't be said for the lands to the north of the forest. I don't know if you've heard, but a dragon from the Withered Heath attacked the Lonely Mountain and forced the dwarves out of their kingdom."

Saruman swung his club, and the ball sailed through the air towards the hole, marked by a flagpole bearing the White Hand of Saruman. "Yes, I've heard. An absolutely tremendous creature. Smaug they call him. And he now sits upon the greatest hoard of gold in Middle-earth. I truly feel sorry for King Thrór and his people. All those years, all that effort mining in Erebor, only to have their rightly earned wealth stolen. A once proud people led by an impoverished king now wander the wilderness."

"King Thrór is dead," said Gandalf.

Saruman looked at Gandalf. "I'm sorry?"

"He died trying to reclaim Moria," said Gandalf. "Sometime after we slew Durin's Bane, Moria was infested with orcs. Their chief killed Thrór, but he was in turn killed by Lord Dain of the Iron Hills."

Gandalf and Radagast started to follow Saruman to where the ball rested in the distance. "Do you think that the dwarves can ever reclaim Erebor?" asked Gandalf.

"No," said Saruman. "Not with a dragon reigning over the mountain."

"Then do you think that we could help them, perhaps?" asked Gandalf. "It'll be just like when we killed the Balrog, except this time we'll have your army at our backs."

"That's absurd," said Saruman. "My army is suited for defending Isengard and its allies. We have neither the numbers nor the proper equipment to deal with a dragon. I think that it would be best not to go near the Lonely Mountain. Smaug lies dormant and poses no further threat. He is content with his treasure hoard, and he will not leave Erebor unless he is provoked. It is very important that he is not provoked. Lake-town lies in the shadow of the mountain, and the people who live there could suffer the consequences if Smaug awakes. I know that you and I slew a Balrog together, Gandalf, but I really don't feel that it would be wise to risk the wrath of a dragon."

"I think that it is also worth mentioning," said Radagast, "that the sickness of Dol Guldur has spread further, tainting a vast area of the forest, and dark clouds are radiating from the fortress."

"Eru almighty!" exclaimed a flustered Saruman. "I don't care! At all!"

"But it's true!" said Radagast. "The elves of Thranduil's realm don't even call it the Greenwood anymore. It's now known as Mirkwood."

"Calm down, you two," said Gandalf. "We can save our bickering for the next White Council meeting."

Just as Saruman was about to take his second stroke, the wizards heard the sound of a great bird. They looked up at the Misty Mountains far to the north and saw the shape of a mighty bird of prey soaring through the air.

"What is that, I wonder?" said Radagast, and the bird fell down behind the hills in the distance. It did not dive gracefully, but rather plummeted as though it was unable to continue flying.

"I do believe that's a Great Eagle of Manwë," said Gandalf.

"That didn't look like a very graceful landing," said Saruman. "We might go and see what help we can give it. Manwë probably wouldn't appreciate us not helping one of his servants when we are able to do so."

The three wizards went up to the mountain and searched among the rocks, trying to see where the Great Eagle had ended up. They found it not too far up the slopes of the mountains. The bird was enormous. It was more than large enough to carry an adult man or elf. It was laying down, and its breathing was labored. It showed no fear when the wizards approached, not bothering to try to get up.

"My goodness," said Radagast. "What happened to you?"

The Eagle spoke with a great and mighty voice, but it pained it to do so. "I was shot by a poisoned Orc arrow. Even now, I can hardly move."

"Now," said Saruman, "let's see what the damage is, shall we?" He found the wound on the Eagle's back near the tail. It was a small cut resulting from being grazed by the arrow, but the poison had been delivered.

"This is beyond my ability to heal," said Saruman. "I will go and fetch Elrond. You will be better off in his care than in mine."

He traveled back to Orthanc and burst in on Elrond's family in the Palantír chamber. Elrond turned and looked at him.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," said Saruman, "but I need your help immediately."

"What is it?" asked Elrond.

"You'll never believe it," said Saruman. "We spotted one of the Eagles of Manwë. He has a poisoned wound, and I need you to cure it."

"Very well," said Elrond. "I'll see what I can do."

"Can we come too, Father?" asked Arwen. "Maybe we could help."

"No," said Elrond. "This is too important, and I have much more experience in healing than all three of you combined. Stay here and talk with your mother. I'll be back."

"Come on!" said Saruman. "We must hurry."

After getting some bandages from one of Saruman's storerooms, they hurried back to where the Great Eagle rested, and Elrond examined the wound.

"A common Orc poison," said Elrond. "Fast acting and painful, but quick and easy to cure. Nothing that some athelas can't help. Could you perhaps bring me some?"

"I know what that is," said Radagast. "I know all the plants of the earth and what conditions they grow in. I'll go and find some."

Radagast went off, leaving the others to wait for his return. Elrond used the bandages to help stop the bleeding.

"You must allow us to introduce ourselves," said Gandalf to the Eagle. "My name is Gandalf. These are my friends, Saruman and Elrond. The one who went off to get the athelas is Radagast."

"I know who you are," said the Eagle. "I was born in Aman in the First Age, and I have seen all the events of the world that have unfolded since then. I have been in the service of Manwë for a very long time. I am Gwaihir."

"Enough talking," said Elrond. "You must rest for now."

Soon, Radagast returned carrying a green weed with white flowers. He handed it to Elrond, who went about applying its healing properties to the wound. Once his work was done, the wound was no longer bleeding at all, and Gwaihir's breathing sounded less laborious.

"Incredible," said Gwaihir. "I can feel my strength returning already."

"You're still not strong enough to fly yet," said Elrond. "You should probably wait a day before attempting that."

"Thank you all," said the Great Eagle. "I thought that I was doomed for sure. I will try to return the favor if I can. You see, the Valar have put me and my kin under the same kind of restrictions as the wizards. We cannot fight the Free Peoples' battles for them. I will help you when it is convenient for me, and only in the greatest of need."

"We're glad to help you," said Saruman. "I don't think that I will be needing your services. Helping you was of no sacrifice to me, so I do not demand any payment."

"You just go back to doing whatever it is you do," said Elrond. "We don't mind."

"Where will you go while you wait for your strength to return?" asked Gandalf.

"I might just rest here in the shadow of the mountains," said Gwaihir. "Or I might go down into Saruman's valley. It doesn't really matter."

"Is there anything else we can do for you?" asked Radagast.

"No," said Gwaihir. "I am perfectly content to lay right here and rest for now. Thank you all."

"It was our pleasure," said Saruman. He and his companions left the Eagle to rest, and they went back down into the Wizard's Vale.

"I'm honestly surprised that you wanted to help him, Saruman," said Radagast. "You're always going on about how great the Children of Eru are, and you always go out of your way to belittle the birds and beasts of the world."

"I beg your pardon?" said Saruman.

"For the entire time I've known you," said Radagast, "you've shown nothing but hatred towards animals, acting like they're beneath you just because they're born with features such as fur or feathers instead of human skin. You treat them with such disrespect, and it's entirely irrational."

The words made Saruman want to beat Radagast to a bloody pulp with his staff, but he restrained himself. "None of what you just said is true. Your argument is the equivalent of making a straw man and destroying it, claiming to have deconstructed my position, when, in reality, that is not my position at all. You just misrepresented my opinions, which I can only sum up to being intellectual dishonesty."

"We really don't need to be having this argument," said Elrond.

"Silence," commanded Saruman, and the voice of the White Wizard quelled any further interruptions.

"Now," continued Saruman, "allow me to state what I actually believe, not these lies that you have perpetuated. You assume that my opinions come from hatred of beasts. Actually, my opinions come from my love for the Children of Eru. There's a big difference. It is true that I believe the majority of animals to be lesser creatures. That is because the ultimate moral standard of my philosophy is rationality. There is no necessary conflict of interest among rational people. They know that they are entitled to the fruits of their own labor, and not that of anyone else. That is what makes them good. They are neither masters nor slaves. Irrational people desire what does not belong to them. They believe that they are entitled to that which they do not earn. They believe that the intelligent, the competent, and the productive should be slaves to the lazy and the incompetent. The choice to be irrational is what makes them evil. Most animals do not have any capacity to be rational, so they do not have any choice. They rely on instinct. When a wolf is hungry, it will eat you if it can. If a man is hungry, he will try to bargain with you. He will offer you something in return if you give him food. Because most animals cannot choose between rationality and irrationality, they cannot be evaluated in terms of morality."

"Then what about Gwaihir?" asked Radagast. "He's just a bird. Do you not look down on him because of his animalistic inability to be rational?"

"That's why I said 'most' animals," said Saruman. "The Eagles of Manwë are obviously highly intelligent, and they can be reasoned with. Gwaihir offered us a favor in return for saving his life. That is undeniable proof that he is a rational being. Even creatures that do not have the capacity to speak can show rationality in some sense. When you train a dog or a horse, you are offering it food, shelter, and companionship in return for the services that it provides. Compare this to the dragon Smaug. He is incredibly intelligent and has the capacity to be rational. However, he deliberately chooses to be irrational. That makes him evil, and that is what makes me think that he is lower than a mindless insect. He offered the dwarves of Erebor nothing in return for their gold. Much unlike domesticated animals, with which human interactions produce mutual profit for both parties."

"What about animals that people eat?" countered Radagast. "What about cows and pigs and chickens? They don't get anything out of their relationship with humans when they are eaten."

"We can eat them because they do not offer us anything else," said Saruman. "Their capacity for rationality is not anywhere near as great as horses, dogs, and even household pets. Because they have little to no ability to be rational, food is their primary use. Until they develop the ability to conduct business with us, that is their lot in life."

"It's all just business to you, isn't it, Saruman?" said Radagast. "Your favorite things in the world are profits, whether it's money or emotional profit. That just proves that you are cold and heartless."

"Your words only prove that you do not know what profit is. Ultimately, profit represents what you have produced. You cannot earn more than you produce. So, profit represents what you have given in return for what you have gained. I don't see anything wrong with that. How dare you speak to me of irrationality? You have put no thought into how you evaluate good and evil, so leave the questions of morality to someone who knows what he's talking about."

Radagast, having no words left, stormed off.

"I am truthfully worried that he might be insane," said Saruman.

"I wouldn't worry about him," said Gandalf. "He'll get over it."

In an attempt to relax after the argument, Elrond went back to Orthanc while Gandalf watched Saruman return to his round of golf.


	22. The Dark Plot is Revealed

A few months later, Saruman found himself pruning his rosebushes near the base of Orthanc. They were white roses, which fit in with the black and white color scheme of everything in Isengard, from Saruman's robes to his staff to Orthanc to the White Hand. As much as he loved spending time creating and tinkering with machines and things of metal, he also enjoyed tending to his gardens.

Saruman was approached by Gandalf, who was looking very distressed. He had just come to Isengard from a long journey to talk to Saruman as soon as he possibly could.

"I know that you've been very annoyed by Galadriel pestering you about the Necromancer," said Gandalf.

"Not you too!" said Saruman without so much as looking away from his roses. "Don't tell me that you're on her side now."

"Please, hear me out," said Gandalf. "I knew that you could never be bothered to investigate Dol Guldur, so I did it myself. Inside of that fortress, I found Thráin, son of Thrór. He was dying. He was a bearer of one of the Seven Rings, and he was carrying it when he disappeared in an attempt to journey back to Erebor. When I found him just before he died, the ring was gone. He gave me a map of Erebor and a key to a hidden door in the mountain to give to his son, Thorin."

"Have you found out anything worthwhile about the Necromancer himself?" asked Saruman.

"The Necromancer is Sauron."

Shocked, Saruman set down his shears and looked at Gandalf. "No," he said, not believing what he had heard.

"Think about it," said Gandalf. "Dol Guldur was once a fortress under the control of Sauron's servants. Thráin had the last of the dwarf rings before his disappearance, but not at his death. Who was the one who demanded all the Rings of Power be given to him after the forging of the One Ring?"

"No," Saruman repeated, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

"If that is not enough," said Gandalf, "I personally saw him just before leaving the fortress. He is barely able to maintain even the most abstract physical form, but he has regained some of his power nonetheless."

Saruman ran his hand through his hair, trying to come to terms with what was happening. For nearly two thousand years, he had been searching for Sauron in all the wrong places when he had already been found. For many hundreds of years, he had scoffed at Radagast and Galadriel for wanting to fight the Necromancer. Never before had Saruman been so wrong in all his life.

"It only gets worse when you think about why Sauron has stayed in Dol Guldur for so long," said Gandalf. "He conveniently killed Thráin just as he was attempting to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. I think that Sauron wants to make sure that Smaug's reign over Erebor goes uncontested. A dragon would be a powerful ally."

"And do you plan on helping the dwarves oust Smaug from the mountain?" asked Saruman.

"If you wish to deprive Sauron of a powerful ally, then yes," said Gandalf.

"Very well," said Saruman. "This is what is going to happen. You go and find Thorin. Help him and whatever friends he can rally take back Erebor. I will summon a meeting of the White Council as soon as possible."

"It might be a while before I can get to the meeting place," said Gandalf. "Thorin is in the Blue Mountains. I will have to travel all the way there to rally him and his kin, and then we will have to traverse far over Eriador, the Misty Mountains, and Mirkwood before we reach our journey's end."

"That's quite alright," said Saruman. "After you cross the Misty Mountains, come back here, and I will summon Elrond, Radagast, and Galadriel. I just hope that we can corner Sauron before he makes his next move. Now be on your way. We have work to do."

Gandalf left Isengard and was off to find Thorin. Meanwhile, Saruman retreated inside of Orthanc to consult Melian through the Palantír.

"Sauron has been found," said Saruman.

Melian was nearly at a loss for words. "That is good. Excellent. Where is he?"

"Well," said Saruman, "he was found a long time ago. Sauron and the Necromancer of Dol Guldur are the same. For all these years, I've been telling the White Council that to attack the Necromancer would be a waste of time. Gandalf went to Dol Guldur himself to investigate, and he found that the Necromancer is indeed Sauron. How could I have been so blind? He's been right there in front of me for all this time, and I'm only just now seeing the truth. I can't believe that Galadriel and Radagast turned out to be right."

"Don't worry about that," said Melian. "What matters right now is that you have found Sauron. If you can drive him out of Dol Guldur, you can perhaps weaken him further and reveal him to the Free Peoples. That way, the kingdoms of men and elves can at last take the front foot in this struggle and force Sauron to go on the defensive. That is, if men can muster sufficient strength before all the elves leave for the Undying Lands. This could very well be one of the last stages of your mission."

"You're right," said Saruman. "That's the important thing. Thingol's death and your sorrow will at last be avenged."

"I thought that this was about bringing peace to Middle-earth," said Melian. "You would be wise to be wary of the dangers of blindly seeking revenge."

"I know," said Saruman. "But my desire to avenge your loss is my personal stake in this mission. It is my personal motivation. I think you worry too much about that anyway. I'm fully capable of taking on Sauron when he is weakened, especially with the rest of the White a Council with me."

"Alright," said Melian. "I won't bother you too much about it. When do you plan on attacking?"

"Once Gandalf gets to the east side of the Misty Mountains. Sauron killed Thráin and took his Ring of Power just as he was leading an attempt to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. This leads us to believe that Sauron is interested in keeping the dragon Smaug alive. Gandalf will lead Thorin, son of Thráin, back to the mountain and slay the dragon. But I believe that Sauron's reasons for remaining in Dol Guldur go deeper. The fortress lies near the Gladden Fields where Isildur was killed. He had the One Ring on him when he met his doom. I believe that Sauron has been searching for his lost Weapon in the Gladden Fields."

"Then your attack must be swift," said Melian. "Sauron has been in Dol Guldur for hundreds upon hundreds of years. If the Ring still lies in the Gladden Fields, then Sauron will surely get it soon if he has not done so already."

"Then do you think that I should search for the Ring to ensure that Sauron does not get it?" asked Saruman.

"No," said Melian. "Evil surrounds and is within the One Ring. I don't think that it would be a good idea. Besides, you shouldn't have to worry about Sauron getting it if your attack comes quickly enough."

"Very well," said Saruman. "When Gandalf gets over the mountains, we will put forth our might and drive Sauron from Dol Guldur."

So Saruman waited on the progress of the Quest of Erebor. Through the Palantír and reports from his nightingale, he saw that Gandalf had recruited a company of thirteen dwarves including Thorin, as well as a Hobbit. Saruman almost felt sorry for the Hobbit. The small person must have been terrified of being out on a long journey through a wide world filled with danger.

Saruman decided to go against his sister's advice to not go looking for the One Ring. He greatly feared Sauron laying his hands on it once more, so he searched the Gladden Fields using the Orthanc Stone. Finding no success, he set out for the Gladden Fields. It was a marshland in the vale of the Gladden river and on the banks of the Anduin. To the east, Saruman could see Mirkwood, as well as dark clouds that radiated from Dol Guldur far in the distance.

Upon his arrival, Saruman saw a band of a dozen orcs wandering the marshland and the banks of the Gladden and the Anduin. This was exactly what Saruman had suspected. As he approached, the orcs noticed him and drew their swords.

"State your purpose in this place," said Saruman.

"None of your business," said the orcs' captain. "Now clear off."

"Is there something that I could help you find?" asked Saruman to see if they were sent to find the Ring and if they already had it. "Are you on a bit of a treasure hunt, perhaps?"

"You could say that," said the Orc captain. "You'll have to take that up with our master, though."

"Oh, really? And who would that be?"

"Just who do you think you are, thinking that you can demand whatever information you want from us? I said clear off, old man, or else we'll split your head open!"

This was more than enough to let Saruman know that they were sent by Sauron for the Ring. He danced amidst a flurry of blades, deflecting attacks with his staff. Soon, all the orcs lay dead on the ground with cracked skulls. Saruman searched the bodies for the Ring, but found nothing.

He searched the area that was the documented site of Isildur's death for several days, but he could find no hint of the Ring. However, he did find one thing that made the expedition worthwhile: a small golden tube. He opened the tube and within it found a radiant white gemstone set on a silver fillet. It was the Elendilmir, a token of royalty in Arnor. He put the Elendilmir back in the golden tube and took it back to Orthanc.

Saruman checked to see how the Quest of Erebor was coming along. Gandalf and his companions were just about to enter Mirkwood. Instead of entering the forest with the company, Gandalf turned away to travel back to Isengard. It was then that Saruman sent out his nightingale to Rivendell, Lothlorien, and Rhosgobel to summon Elrond, Galadriel, and Radagast.

When the White Council was once again gathered in the dining room of Orthanc, Saruman explained the situation.

"Sauron has been found," said Saruman. "Gandalf went into Dol Guldur himself, and he has discovered that the Necromancer is the Dark Lord. Gandalf suspects that Sauron wants an alliance with the dragon Smaug, and I would agree. However, I have also discovered that Sauron's servants have been searching the Gladden Fields for the One Ring. This means that we need to attack Dol Guldur immediately."

"So you were wrong," said Galadriel. "All these years denying an attack on Dol Guldur, only for the Necromancer to be Sauron himself."

"Oh, yes," Saruman growled, "I was wrong. But neither were you right. You always wanted an attack on Dol Guldur simply because the Necromancer is a dark sorcerer, and for no other reasons. You may have been right that to attack the Necromancer would be a prudent course of action, but you were right for the wrong reasons. At least Gandalf had the sense to go and investigate himself rather than bother me about it. But enough of that. We must drive Sauron out of Dol Guldur."

"Can we really take him on?" asked Elrond. "He is the greatest of the Maiar. He has felled entire armies."

"Do not worry," said Saruman. "He is but a shadow of his former strength. Without the One Ring, he cannot regain what he has lost. We, however, are mighty. The rulers of Rivendell and Lothlorien are the pinnacles of the power of the elves in Middle-earth, and we three of the Five Wizards hold power that rivals Sauron. I am certain that we can fight him without much of an issue. We may even be able to destroy what is left of his power."

"Then shall we leave now?" asked Gandalf. "I would like to rejoin my friends as soon as possible. I've grown to be very fond of them, and I worry for their safety."

"Of course," said Saruman. "Let us now set out for Dol Guldur. I've been waiting a long time for this."


	23. The Hunt is Over

Saruman, Gandalf, Radagast, Elrond, and Galadriel left Isengard and started the journey to Mirkwood. As they traveled, Saruman walked next to Elrond. He pulled out the golden tube containing the Elendilmir that he had brought with him.

"Here," said Saruman. "Take this."

Elrond took it and opened it. He reached inside and pulled out the white gem.

"That is the Elendilmir," said Saruman. "It was once used as a symbol for the Kings of Arnor. I figured that since you have the shards of Narsil and the Sceptre of Annúminas, you should keep this as well."

"Thank you," said Elrond. "This will stay in Rivendell with the rest of the symbols of the royalty of Arnor and Gondor. The line of Elendil only survives in the Dunedain, who wander the wilderness as Rangers. But one day, the heir to the kingship of the Numenorean kingdoms in exile will come forth and claim the thrones of Arnor and Gondor. When that day comes, I will surrender the Elendilmir, the Sceptre, and the shards of Narsil to the rightful king, whoever that might be. Everyone born in the line of the chieftains of the Dunedain has a claim to the thrones, but it seems that the time is not yet ripe."

The White Council approached Mirkwood from the west so that they might use the Old Forest Road. Upon seeing the forest up close, Saruman could see that Radagast's reports of what the Necromancer had done to Mirkwood were true. The woods were very dark, and the trees didn't seem entirely healthy. As they traveled deeper and deeper into the forest, they saw that the trees were draped with great spider webs. As they came ever nearer to Dol Guldur, they came under the dark clouds that had come from the fortress.

As they were walking, Saruman noticed a sword in a sheath that hung at Gandalf's side.

"I did not know that you were a swordsman," said Saruman.

"I have used swords on occasion in the past," said Gandalf. "But this sword is one that I would like to keep with me. This is Glamdring, the sword of King Turgon of Gondolin."

"How did you ever come across it?" asked Saruman. "That sword was lost when Turgon was slain in the fall of Gondolin."

"I found it in a troll hoard. Don't ask me how it got there, because I don't know. In that troll hoard, we also found Orcrist, the sword of Ecthelion, which Thorin took with him."

"Can I have a look at it?" asked Saruman.

Gandalf removed Glamdring from its scabbard and handed it to Saruman.

"Beautiful," said Saruman. "The construction is still solid, and there's not any hint of rust."

"And it's still sharp," said Gandalf.

Saruman swung the sword at a small tree branch nearby. Glamdring cleaved through the wood with ease.

"Still sharp after all those millennia," said Saruman as he handed the sword back to Gandalf. "Powerful magic keeps it unharmed. Magic stronger than Morgul spells."

"It has aided me greatly during Thorin Oakenshield's quest," said Gandalf. "Many goblins of the Misty Mountains have met their end by this sword." He put Glamdring back in its scabbard.

"Now is the time to really put it to the test," said Saruman. "We'll see if it can handle whatever defenses Sauron has waiting for us."

At last, they came upon Dol Guldur. It was a huge, decaying castle on top of a hill. It was on the opposite side of a deep ravine across from where the White Council stood, and the ravine was spanned by a great stone bridge. Though much of the fortress was old and decrepit, multiple towers and the curtain walls had been strengthened. The tallest tower marked the main keep, and it was heavily fortified. A gate of iron lay shut, barring entrance. The White Council could see nothing moving on the battlements or in the windows of the towers, and all was silent under the darkness of the clouds. They stayed behind the tree line to hide from any eyes that might have been watching from the fortress.

"You've been here before, Gandalf," said Saruman. "What are the dangers?"

"When last I came here," said Gandalf, "there were no signs of any renovations. The entire place was in ruins. Now, those walls and towers look much stronger compared to the rest of the fortress. Do you think we're expected?"

"We must be," said Galadriel. "I don't see any way that Sauron could have known about this, but there's no other reason for the fortress to have newly strengthened defenses."

"There is certainly a host of orcs and other creatures waiting for us," said Elrond. "There are most likely archers in the towers and on the battlements. I know not what lies behind the walls, but whatever it is, it will put up a fight."

"How are we going to get in?" asked Radagast. "I don't know if we'll be able to get that gate open before we're all shot to death."

"I'll figure it out," said Saruman. "As the head of the White Council, I believe in leading by example. Now let me think of a plan."

Saruman looked at Dol Guldur, trying to formulate an approach. Radagast was right. There was no way that they would be able to break down the gate with the archers shooting at them. So, the archers would have to go.

"This is what we're going to do," said Saruman. "Gandalf, I'll need you to make sure that I don't get shot while I remove the archers. Radagast, while I do my work, you will escort Galadriel and the Lord Elrond across the bridge and break down the gate. Am I clear?"

The White Council nodded in understanding.

"Then let us begin," said Saruman.

Saruman stepped out from the trees, and Gandalf stood in front of him. Elrond and Galadriel followed Radagast across the bridge. A storm of arrows flew from the towers and battlements, but Gandalf and Radagast conjured spherical shields of light that deflected the arrows. Saruman, protected behind Gandalf's shield, raised his staff. By the magic of the White Wizard, the Necromancer's own clouds of darkness were turned against him. It began to rain, and mighty bolts of lightning struck the towers and battlements. The fortifications were destroyed in a shower of sparks, and many of the wooden support structures were set ablaze. Stones fell from the towers and curtain walls as they were toppled, and orcs were blasted down into the ravine below.

Once the archers were no more, Saruman and Gandalf strode across the stone bridge below which the ravine was now flooded with rainwater. Radagast was at work trying to break down the gate. By the time Gandalf and Saruman had crossed the bridge, the gate had crumpled before Radagast and was blown into the fortress.

When they entered the old stone courtyard of Dol Guldur, they saw before them a host of orcs lightly armed and armored. The orcs charged, hoping to win through overwhelming numbers, but they were next to nothing before the White Council. Saruman struck with his staff, using blasting spells behind his blows. Gandalf turned into a whirlwind of violence, using both the magic of his staff as well as Glamdring, which sliced through the orcs with ease. Radagast showed unexpected combat skill, holding his own using magic just as well as his companions, much to Saruman's surprise. Galadriel held aloft a small phial shining with great beams of light that seemed to burn the orcs, killing them slowly and painfully. Elrond showcased his legendary skill as the greatest swordsman in Middle-earth, taking on as many as a dozen orcs at once with his curved sword and not having a problem.

In a matter of minutes, all the orcs in the courtyard were disposed of, and the only sound that could be heard was the rain against the stone. Saruman's damp clothing and soaked hair and beard made him slightly jealous of Gandalf's wide hat and warm, cozy cloak that sharply contrasted with Saruman's own robe that traded comfort for grandeur. But Saruman didn't mind all that much. He had a fondness for the rain.

"What now?" asked Elrond. "Surely that's not everything Sauron has."

"You're right," said Saruman. "It is not. We must explore the castle further. Be on your guard. We do not know what may be lying in wait."

The White Council proceeded forward from the courtyard to go deeper into Dol Guldur. The fortress was a maze of ruined corridors with collapsed ceilings leading between various disused rooms and crumbling towers. They found that all of the fortress surrounding the central keep was clear of enemies. However, the keep itself seemed to have no doors leading into it. This greatly angered Saruman, as he had been waiting nearly two thousand years for this moment, only to find himself unable to find a way into Sauron's final retreat.

"He is in there," said Saruman. "I know he is in there. The coward has locked himself up high in his tower. He is mocking me right now, with my search almost at its end. He is mocking me! How dare he!"

"Calm down, Saruman," said Elrond. "I saw a trapdoor in one of the towers. Perhaps we need to go down in order to go up to the keep."

Elrond led the way back to the tower where the trapdoor was. The roof was entirely gone, exposing the trapdoor to Saruman's rain. Elrond opened it, revealing a stairway that led down into the foundations of the fortress. The wizards led the way, using their staves to light up the darkness. Following them was Galadriel, and last came Elrond, who left the trapdoor open for some more light.

The stairway led to what remained of an armory. There were many racks of all manner of old, rusted iron weapons and armor, and the room was littered with webs. There were multiple doorways leading on into the dark.

"We'll each take a different path," said Saruman. "Find the one that leads up to the keep."

The White Council split up and went through separate doorways. Saruman slowly made his way down the corridor that he had chosen, not wanting to run directly into something that might try to kill him. He held up his staff, using its white stone to illuminate the dark passage. He reached the end of the hallway, and there was a spiral staircase draped with webs that led down. That was the opposite direction he wanted to go, so he made his way back to the armory where the rest of the White Council had returned from their respective passageways.

"I found the way into the keep," said Radagast. "It's up the stairway at the end of this passage."

Radagast went into the passage, followed by Gandalf and Galadriel, who were in turn followed by Saruman and Elrond. However, the last two had barely left the armory when they heard a strange sound. It was the sound of a great many footsteps. The White Council looked back and saw, emerging from the other passageways, many giant spiders.

"Elrond and I can handle this," said Saruman.

"We'll go on ahead and find Sauron," said Gandalf.

"Take him," commanded Saruman. "But be sure to leave the killing blow for my hand."

Gandalf, Galadriel, and Radagast looked at Saruman questionably after his command, but they pressed on. Saruman and Elrond stayed in the armory to face the spiders. They kept the foul creatures at the length of their weapons, attacking with thrusts to try to avoid getting bitten. Saruman noticed a lantern on the ground next to him, and he kicked it at the spiders. The lantern shattered, dowsing the spiders in oil. Saruman thrust out his staff, shooting a ball of fire that ignited the oil, and the spiders were engulfed in flames. While the spiders crawled about in a frenzy of pain, Elrond ran back to the trapdoor through which the White Council had come. He reached his hand up towards the rainstorm, and the water falling onto the fortress was bent to his will. He channeled the rain into the trapdoor, flooding the armory and sweeping the spiders back down the passageways from whence they came.

Saruman and Elrond ran down the passage that their companions had taken. At the end of the passage, they found a spiral staircase leading up. They ran up the stairs, ignoring doorways on the ascending levels until they at last reached an iron door at the top. They went through the door, and before them was a set of stairs that led further on to the pinnacle of the fortress. The roof had been destroyed by Saruman's lightning. They closed the heavy iron door behind them to ensure that the spiders could not follow.

As soon as the door was shut, Saruman and Elrond looked up at the top of the keep and saw Radagast hurtling down the stairs, as though he had been thrown.

"We're having some trouble taking him," said Radagast.

The Brown Wizard attempted to get up, but he was in too much pain to do so.

"Take care of Radagast, Elrond," said Saruman.

"I must go with you," said Elrond. "You will need all the help you can get."

"This is why I am here," said Saruman. "This is my mission. This is my quest: to help rid Middle-earth of Sauron. I can do it."

Saruman looked up to the top of the stairs. He could tell that an intense fight was taking place.

"So, here you are, Sauron." Saruman laughed a bitter, vengeful laugh. "Oh, ever the fool. You will elude me no more."

Saruman walked up the stairs in the midst of his rain and thunder. At the top, the very peak of Dol Guldur, was his old enemy, the Necromancer, Gorthaur the Cruel: Sauron.

The Dark Lord was surrounded by an aura of black mist. He had a definite man-shaped physical form seemingly made of a solid version of the black mist, and his face was blank and featureless. Between Sauron and Saruman lay Gandalf and Galadriel. Sauron was attacking them with a torrent of black mist. Gandalf was kneeling down and defending with a magical shield. Galadriel stood behind the Gray Wizard and attacked with the great rays of light from her phial, trying to pierce through Sauron's darkness.

Seeing that Gandalf's shield was going to fail before Galadriel could do any damage, Saruman swept them both aside with a wave of his staff. Now, it was just as Saruman wanted. Just him and Sauron. He stepped towards his enemy.

"I have hunted you for hundreds of years," said Saruman. "But now, finally, you will truly taste death, Sauron!"

The Dark Lord spoke. His voice was deep. But unlike Saruman's voice, his was not compelling. It was the sound of all of Sauron's evil fully revealed, the voice of evil itself.

"We shall see."

Sauron unleashed a stream of black mist upon Saruman, but the White Wizard conjured a shield of light that expanded until it reached Sauron, putting a stop to the attack. Saruman stepped forward with one thought in his mind: vengeance.

Saruman thrust his staff forward, and a great stream of white fire was unleashed upon Sauron. The fire was combined with the light of the white stone given by Melian and the light of Valinor that was within Saruman. It completely dissolved the mists of darkness that surrounded Sauron. Even after Saruman ceased the stream of fire, the crown of his staff was still engulfed in the white flames. He then proceeded to smite Sauron with his staff. Sauron's hands began to glow red with fire, but Saruman struck him down before Sauron could make use of his flames. Though the Dark Lord's body was somewhat abstract and far from complete, he felt the full force of the White Wizard's blows and grunted in pain. Saruman hit him with a blasting spell, and Sauron was thrown to the floor.

"Oh yes, you recognize the power of this stone, don't you? It was once used to strengthen the defenses of the Kingdom of Doriath, which even your great power could never have overcome. For one so called one of the greatest of the Maiar, you were always nothing next to my sister. All the others who had a hand in her sorrow have recieved due punishment, from the dwarves of Nogrod to your master, of whom you are still but a mere servant. You are the last one. At long last, I will destroy the mighty Sauron and avenge Queen Melian!"

"How noble of you to fight me at my weakest," said Sauron. "Your fool of a sister would be proud of you displaying such honor on her behalf."

Saruman gave a terrible cry of rage and retaliated with another jet of white fire, and Sauron screamed in pain. The White Wizard brought his staff down upon the Dark Lord with all his might. The floor gave way, and Sauron fell into the room below. Saruman jumped down into the room and continued to savagely beat Sauron with his staff. He blasted his foe across the room, breaking holes in the walls.

Eventually, one of Saruman's spells threw Sauron over to the stairs that the White Council had used to climb the tower. Sauron realized his peril. Knowing that he could not stand against the might and rage of Saruman at that time, let alone Saruman with the White Council at his back, Sauron fled down the stairs, half running and half floating. Saruman gave chase, followed closely by the rest of the White Council. They pursued Sauron down to the armory, and the Dark Lord went up the stairs and out the trapdoor.

As they followed Sauron out of the trapdoor, Saruman realized that Sauron was going to abandon the fortress.

"Take an alternate path to the entrance," ordered Saruman. "Cut off his escape."

"But isn't this exactly what we are here for?" asked Galadriel. "To drive him from the fortress?"

"Just do it!" Saruman bellowed, and the members of the White Council did as he said.

They each took a different path back to the stone bridge. Just as Sauron was about to reach the remains of the iron gate, Galadriel and Radagast stood there, barring the way. Saruman, Elrond, and Gandalf came up behind Sauron to prevent him from going back into the depths of Dol Guldur. Sauron looked around and saw that he was surrounded. Now, his aura of black mist was made anew. He released a stream of darkness laced with red fire upon Saruman, but the shield of the White Wizard was still too strong. Together, all the members of the White Council unleashed powerful spells of light upon the Dark Lord. However, Sauron was not willing to let the last of his power be destroyed. He disincarnated, dissolving his physical body and allowing his spirit to escape to places that the White Council knew not.

Saruman looked on in stunned horror as Sauron's spirit escaped. He had spent centuries hunting for Sauron, and when he finally had a chance to take his revenge, Sauron escaped. Saruman leaned on his staff, trying to cope with his hopes of destroying Sauron himself coming so close to being realized before being utterly crushed. Elrond walked over to him and put his hand on the wizard's shoulder.

"We still have a chance," said Elrond. "Now that he's been forced into the open, he will have the armies of all the Free Peoples of Middle-earth marching against him."

"Yes," said Saruman. "You're right. He will declare himself openly soon. And when he does, I will have war against him."

"Our work here is done," said Gandalf. "I need to get to Erebor as quickly as possible. I fear that my friends are in danger."

"Go," said Saruman. "Do what you have to do."

Gandalf went across the bridge away from Dol Guldur to complete the Quest of Erebor, leaving the rest of the White Council to plan their next move.

"Sauron will not hide for long," said Saruman. "When he reappears, he will make war, the last war. And what a war it will be. We will have victory, and his fall will be so great that he will be reduced to an insignificant ghost, unable to participate in the events of the world for the rest of his wretched existence. And the sorrow of Melian will at last be avenged."

Saruman returned to Isengard. He sat upon his throne and looked into the Palantír, determined to find Sauron again so that he might take the fight to the enemy. He gazed far into the east. As he searched, he heard that voice of evil, the voice of Sauron.

"I know what you are," said the voice. "Another failure."

 


	24. The Shade of the East

After the attack on Dol Guldur, Saruman grew more and more fearful about what would happen when Sauron declared himself openly, which he undoubtedly would. Though Saruman had said that Sauron would surely be defeated, it seemed that not all was well. Specifically, he was worried about the Ring. He had searched the Gladden Fields thoroughly and found no trace of the fabled weapon. He knew that Sauron did not have it, or else the Dark Lord would have easily killed Saruman and his companions during the attack. The knowledge that the One Ring was lost should have been a comforting thought, but Saruman was not at ease.

Saruman wanted to have a meeting with the White Council, but he decided to hold the meeting at Rivendell instead of Isengard so that Elrond's personal counsellors and other members of the Wise could more easily participate. He travelled to Rivendell and sent out messages to gather the council. Before the meeting, he walked with Elrond in the gardens of Rivendell and admired the splendor of the valley.

"Not much has happened here after we last met," said Elrond. "I put the Elendilmir away in my study. I imagine it will gather dust like the shards of Narsil and the Sceptre of Annúminas for years to come. Long have I raised and sheltered the Chieftains of the Dunedain, and not a single one of them has yet laid claim to the thrones of Arnor and Gondor. Bad things have happened in the centuries of the king's absence. It is an unfortunate state of affairs indeed."

"So, where is the heir of Elendil now?" asked Saruman.

"I imagine that he's off in the wild with the twins right now. His father died when the boy was but two years old. He named him Aragorn, but we call him Estel here. I renamed him because I did not want the agents of Sauron to discover him and kill him like his father."

"And we can't have that, now can we? As it stands, there is only one line of great kings of men left, and that is the kings of Rohan. As a matter of fact, a prince was recently born to King Thengel. Hopefully he will be more like his father than his grandfather. Fengel was an absolute scoundrel of a king. An insult to the greatness of the likes of Eorl the Young and Helm Hammerhand."

"The Rohirrim are a strange people," said Elrond. "For some reason, everything they build must be decorated with images of horses. Even their flag is a white horse upon a green field. I understand that they love and respect the creatures, but I'm not sure that horses must completely dominate all their works of art and craftsmanship."

"I personally quite like it," said Saruman. "I find the horse images to be very esthetically appealing. The men of the Riddermark have done very creative things with the shapes of horses. Herugrim, the sword of King Thengel, has a guard composed of two gleaming horse heads."

"You know, Arwen passed through Rohan a while back," said Elrond. "She found it to be a pleasant place despite the Rohirrim's obsession with horses."

"What was she doing there?" asked Saruman.

"She was on her way to go to Lothlorien," said Elrond. "She'll be staying there for a couple of decades because it's been a long time since she last saw Celebron and Galadriel."

"Ha, dreadful woman," said Saruman.

"My daughter?"

"No! I mean Galadriel. You know, she's never going to forget that she turned out to be right that the Necromancer was a threat, even though she had no proof until Gandalf brought forth the evidence himself. She is shortsighted to an absurd degree."

"A little disproportionately harsh, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," said Saruman. "Why does Celeborn never attend council meetings?"

"It's been established that Celeborn is the primary co-ruler of Lothlorien," said Elrond. "He stays in the Golden Wood while Galadriel travels. Someone needs to rule Lothlorien while our meetings take place. I do the same thing whenever I travel. I have Glorfindel rule in my stead. Not that you would know anything of it, what with you staying up in your tower all the time like some kind of strange hermit."

"No, I wouldn't know anything of it," said Saruman. "Because I am not a ruler. I hold the title of lord, but I am no ruler. I recognize that among peaceful people in my ideal society, nobody has a right to rule over others. There are no masters or slaves in Isengard. I let my people do as they please as long as they do not cheat each other out of their rights by force or fraud. I do not need to delegate rule of Isengard to someone else on the rare instances that I travel because I do not rule my people anyway."

"No need to get so defensive," said Elrond. "I merely jest."

As they walked, they came to a familiar elf wearing a gray cloak over a blue tunic sitting on a bench, simply enjoying the scenery of the gardens. It was Círdan.

"How are you two on this fine day?" asked the Lord of the Gray Havens.

"Fine, thank you," said Saruman. "It's been a long time."

"Indeed," said Círdan. "I've not been attending meetings of the White Council because I've been busy with other things. Ships to build, old friends to see off. It's seemingly endless work, but it must be done."

"Then what brings you here if you are so busy?" asked Saruman.

"Why, the discovery and routing of Sauron at Dol Guldur, of course," answered Círdan. "I feel that I should personally be here to participate in deciding what to do after the first encounter with the Enemy in several thousand years."

"Then if you will come with me," said Elrond, "we shall meet with the rest of the council. I suspect that Glorfindel and the others are ready to begin."

Elrond led Saruman and Círdan to the terrace where the first White Council meeting after the Wizards' arrival took place. Sitting at the table were Gandalf, Radagast, Galadriel, a golden-haired elf who Saruman guessed was Glorfindel, and, to Saruman's surprise, Alatar. Pallando, however, was nowhere to be seen. Saruman, Elrond, and Círdan sat down.

"As we are all aware," Saruman began, "it was discovered that the Necromancer of Dol Guldur was discovered by Gandalf to be Sauron, and we then routed him from the castle. Gandalf, we would like to know what happened after you left us to continue the Quest of Erebor, if you would be so kind."

"The Lonely Mountain was successfully reclaimed," said Gandalf. "The dragon Smaug was killed, allowing Thorin Oakenshield to claim the treasures within the mountain. However, there were some disputes over who had the right to the gold, and these disputes erupted into the Battle of the Five Armies. There was an attack by an army of orcs, and Gwaihir and his Eagles arrived to fight them off. However, Thorin and his two young nephews were killed. Thorin's cousin, Dain, is the new King under the Mountain. Despite all the grief and bloodshed, I suppose that the final goal of the Quest of Erebor has at last been achieved. Smaug is dead, and the Kingdom of Erebor has been reestablished."

"Good," said Elrond. "Though the death of Thorin comes as a terrible tragedy, at least we no longer have to worry about the dragon. Sauron has been deprived of a potential ally."

"And now that Sauron has left Dol Guldur," said Radagast, "the trees of Mirkwood may finally begin to heal. It will be my duty to see that the forest recovers from the damage that Sauron has wrought."

"That also means that we will soon have to turn our attention towards the East," said Saruman. "We will not have peace for much longer, and we must be ready for when that peace ends."

"I think that we must turn our attention towards the East immediately," said Alatar. "I have successfully stirred up rebellions in Harad against their king who worships Sauron, so Mordor will receive no help from Harad until the current king quells the rebellion, if he ever does. However, I returned to Rhûn to find that the cult founded by the Nazgûl is still active. Although it has been centuries since that Ringwraith left Rhûn, the cult is still active. The Ringwraith has been replaced by a new leader to direct the cult. This new leader is growing in power and is an advisor to the King of Rhûn. To make matters worse, Pallando has gone missing."

"Missing?" said Saruman. "How?"

"I don't know," said Alatar. "I went to Rhûn to make sure that he had recieved the summons for this very meeting, but I could not find him. I fear the worst. He is either captured or killed."

"This is most worrying indeed," said Saruman. "I would recommend going back to Rhûn. If you still cannot find Pallando, then do your best to finish his work. You need not worry about Harad. It seems that your work there is finished for now."

"So that's it?" said Galadriel. "We're just going to wait idly for Sauron to return with his full force of arms?"

"It will not be that easy for him," said Saruman. "The Kingdom of Erebor has risen again, and the kingdoms of men still stand strong."

"Not Gondor," said Glorfindel. "Not so much anymore. I fought alongside the men of Gondor in their days of glory long ago, and I have seen what they have become since then. I personally fought side by side with Eärnur and witnessed how he fearlessly struck out to chase down the Witch-king, and the new Stewards of Gondor cannot compare to his might and valor. And if the situation in Rhûn is as bad as Alatar says, then I fear that the Easterlings suffer a similar decline. They once existed peacefully with the West, but they have now turned to evil. To follow a cult established by one of the Nine, they must be very twisted indeed. I've seen what the Witch-king did to corrupt the hearts of men. Rhûn must be a terrible place now. And they've even silenced one of the most important voices speaking out against Sauron."

"Don't worry about Rhûn," said Alatar. "I will dissolve the cult, kill their leader, and find Pallando."

"And don't worry about the weakening of Gondor," said Saruman. "While Gondor wanes, Rohan and the dwarves of Erebor rise."

"And what of Sauron and the last of the Seven Rings?" asked Glorfindel. "Before he left Dol Guldur, he took Thráin's Ring."

"But we have something better than the Seven and the Nine combined," said Saruman. "The Three are with us right at this very meeting. Besides, Sauron cannot regain his full power without the One, which has been lost."

"Are you still upset about the Three Rings?" asked Gandalf. "I thought that this was behind us."

"Oh, of course I'm not upset," said Saruman. "Don't you worry about that."

"What's this about?" asked Círdan. "I take it that you found out about Narya."

"Indeed he did," said Gandalf. "And he was most displeased that it was kept secret from him."

"I've gotten over it," said Saruman. "Trust me. It doesn't bother me anymore."

"I think that I need to clear something up," said Círdan. "Saruman, both you and Gandalf are wise and powerful. But you two are very different. Gandalf wanders about the countries of Middle-earth, always befriending those he meets. That's how he learns and grows in wisdom. You spend your time isolated within Orthanc with your books and maps. You learn in a more scholarly sort of way. The powers of Narya include inspiring others to resist tyranny, domination, and despair. You, being mostly alone in your fortress, wouldn't have much use for it. Gandalf, however, is constantly surrounded by people who wish to rise against the Enemy. That is why I gave Narya to Gandalf instead of you. It would see much more use if its wearer was constantly out among many other people. Of course, you seem to be doing just fine without it."

"I understand," said Saruman. "It's no worry. We have much more important things to worry about."

"Is that it, then?" asked Elrond.

"Yes," said Saruman. "Radagast will go to Mirkwood and work to heal that which Sauron's magic has tainted. Alatar will return to Rhûn to look for Pallando and crush any support that Sauron has in the East. As for the rest of us, there's not much to be done but wait for the time being."

After the meeting had concluded, Saruman returned to Isengard and gazed into the Palantír in an attempt to find Pallando. Instead, he once again heard the dreadful voice of Sauron.

"Where is he? Where could he have gone?"

Saruman was shocked. Somehow, Sauron had known about Alatar's report on Pallando's disappearance.

"Remember to look behind you."


	25. The God of Distortions

Saruman spent many hours looking into the Palantír in an attempt to locate Pallando. However, nothing ever came of it. He looked out across the vast and geographically diverse land of Rhûn for his fellow wizard, but he was nowhere to be found. More and more men of the East turned to follow the will of Sauron and built dark temples dedicated to him. Lights were turned out, and all the land turned dark in honor of the Lord of Mordor.

Not knowing what else to do, he used the Orthanc Stone to cast his gaze West to seek Melian's help.

"I've searched and searched, but I cannot find Pallando," said Saruman. "I refuse to believe that he is forever lost, but I don't know what to do."

"The land of Rhûn is growing dark," said Melian. "As more men follow Sauron, more and more lightless temples spring up. There are shadows and black magic everywhere that can block the vision of the Palantír. I think that's the reason you cannot see him. The vision of the Palantíri can see through all physical obstacles, but is obstructed by darkness. You cannot see where there is no light. If Pallando is held captive deep within some dark cell, then the Palantír will not be of much help. So, I would advise you to go there personally and seek him out with Alatar."

Heeding his sister's advice, Saruman set out on the long journey to Rhûn. He passed over the vast plains of Rohan, the great river Anduin, and the realm of Gondor and its eastern provinces until he at last came to Rhûn. To the south lay Mordor, and the areas closest to the Dark Land were quite hot and dry. To the north, the country became more mild and pleasant with a diverse geography.

Much to Saruman's dismay, his mission was in the southern area near Mordor, for that was where Rhûn's capital city was located. Within sight of the Ash Mountains lay a grand city of beige stone surrounded by a great many olive tree farms. It was filled with extravagant mansions and towers that indicated vast wealth. Throughout the city, many people had their own personal gardens, many of which had olive trees. However, there were also many black citadels that looked like a great black scar upon the beige city. The north end of the city was on a hill, and at the summit lay the huge palace of the King of Rhûn. Even that beautiful palace was being renovated, slowly being turned into the monstrous black of many of the surrounding buildings. The flags that flew from the towers bore the symbol of the Eye of Sauron.

As Saruman walked through the streets, he marveled at the artful and elaborate architecture of the buildings. The people were strange and exotic to the wizard's eyes, and they wore flamboyant red and yellow colors. However, despite the bright colors that the people wore, the streets were strangely quiet. People walked to their destinations in silence, most of them with their heads bowed. Guards dressed in red and gold colored armor were stationed everywhere, silent and motionless.

Saruman sensed that it would be unwise to openly ask about either of the Blue Wizards lest the worshippers of Sauron learn his purpose, so he tried to think of more subtle questions to ask that might give him clues. Before he could act, however, he was approached by a man clad all in an elegant purple color.

"I take it that you are Saruman the Wise," he said.

"Why do you ask?" questioned Saruman.

"Because I know why you're here, and I can help you."

"How do you know? Who told you?"

"I don't really want to mention his name in public, but a few months ago he went on a journey to Rivendell to meet with you. He didn't really expect you to come, but I've been keeping an eye out just in case, and here you are. I can take you to him now."

"What is your name?"

"I am Ulfast. Come now. We must be on our way."

Saruman walked with Ulfast through the streets, following him to wherever their destination might be. As they walked, they recieved many strange looks.

"Do they have a problem with us?" asked Saruman.

"It's my clothing. Purple is a very expensive dye and is rarely seen around here."

"You must be a very wealthy man. What is your profession?"

"I'm in the textile industry. My main store is in the northern district of the city, but we have also opened up smaller shops at other locations. One of the newest ones is at Dale, since that city was reestablished after the death of the dragon Smaug. I'm actually hoping to expand into areas further west."

"Feel free to come to Isengard," said Saruman. "We already have a few such businesses there, but I'm far from opposed to new competing merchants."

At last they came to a large textile store. Within were many rows of workers sitting at looms, weaving fabrics of many colors. Completed clothing articles and tapestries were displayed on various shelves. Ulfast led the way up a flight of stairs near the back. They arrived at a large office filled with shelves that held many record books. A blue-robed man with a dark gray beard sat at a desk writing on a piece of parchment. It was Alatar.

"Look who I found," said Ulfast.

Alatar looked up from his work. "Saruman! I didn't think that you would bother to come."

"All my other methods for locating Pallando have been exhausted, so here I am."

"It is good that you have come," said Alatar. "This company was founded many years ago by Ulfast's great-great-great-great grandfather and Pallando. However, after I arrived a few months ago and found Pallando missing, I took his place in the company. We are trying to draw commerce, and, by extension, funding, away from services run by the king and the followers of Sauron. But steps have been taken to regulate the market in favor of our competitors, so profits aren't as high as we would like them to be. However, we can counteract this by convincing other merchants to join us. The king is seeking to stifle free trade and take the benefits of productive people's efforts for himself. He's even had many of my colleagues arrested and put in prison. As a matter of fact, there was a drought not too long ago, and there was a shortage of food, especially olives. A friend of mine worked to improve the city's irrigation systems and farming techniques, which is what saved the city. But the king instead attributed the city's survival to the will of Sauron, and he murdered my friend for claiming otherwise. If the local merchants seek to trade and barter as they please, then they can join us, and then we will move our business and all of our assets to Gondor, thus depriving the Rhûnic king of victims to leech off of. However, we would very much like to find Pallando. He knows the ins and outs of Rhûn and the company much better than I do, and I'm not willing to abandon my friend in a land under Sauron's control."

"It is actually very fortunate that you choose now to come here," said Ulfast. "If Pallando has indeed been taken prisoner, we have had no way of knowing it. The prison is guarded by a great host, so it is impossible to get in to look for him. However, the prison will be emptied tonight. All the captives will be taken to the Shrine of Worship just outside the city to participate in a ritual. This is our chance to find Pallando. If he is among the prisoners, we may find a way to release him and escape."

"So be it," said Saruman. "When shall we begin?"

"We can begin right now if you like," said Alatar. "We can go to the Shrine of Worship immediately and wait for the ritual to begin. Or we can wait until nightfall after the ceremony has begun."

"Are you not worried about being allowed into the Shrine?" asked Saruman.

"Why would we when we have you?" countered Alatar. "I cannot stress enough how lucky we are that you have chosen this very day to come here."

"Then we shall leave immediately," said Saruman. "I will get us into the Shrine of Worship, and then we will figure out what can be done from there."

Ulfast and Alatar agreed. The Blue Wizard retrieved his silver-colored wooden staff and led the way out to the southern side of the city. After traveling along the road a few miles out, they came to a great black tower that Ulfast identified as the Shrine of Worship. It was quite a stout structure lined with huge windows and mighty pillars, and it's entrance was protected by a host of guards. To the south beyond the Shrine were the Ash Mountains, the northern wall of Mordor.

"Well, Saruman," said Ulfast, "do your magic."

They approached the guards who stood in front of the grand entrance, and their captain said, "The Shrine of Worship is prohibited today until preparations for the ceremony are complete, and only those individuals designated by the hierophant may participate. Off with you now."

"We are to take over management of preparations for today's ceremony," said Saruman. "By order of the hierophant."

"Apologies," said the captain as he and the guards stood aside, swayed by the voice of Saruman. "Please, enter. You will be pleased to know that we are on schedule."

"We must make sure of that ourselves," said Saruman. "We do not want to disappoint the hierophant."

Saruman, Alatar, and Ulfast entered and found themselves in an empty room except for a great spiral staircase that led up to the next floor. They ascended the stairs, which terminated in the center of a colossal chamber. Four mighty pillars stood at the south end of the room, and the openings between them led out to a balcony from which the Ash Mountains and Mordor could be seen. At the north end of the room was a lofty dais with a great stone seat on top. A dozen or so men were constructing a huge upright wooden ring between the middle two pillars. The ring was filled with many wooden cells that had door attached to them so that they might be closed.

"What is it you want?" asked one of the men, a supervisor of sorts.

"You are to be relieved of management now," said Saruman. "On the orders of the hierophant, we shall supervise the construction."

"Well, you're a little late for that," said the manager. "We're just about done here. I'm quite insulted to be honest. Does the hierophant really have so little faith in my ability to get this done on time that he sends in replacements before I've even had a chance to tell him what progress we've made?"

"So there is no work left to be done?" asked Saruman.

"That's right," said the manager. "You can inspect it if you like, but I guarantee that not a single negative word can be said of the job we have done. Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way."

"Leave behind your tools, if you will," ordered Saruman. "We will need them to fix any mistakes you have made."

They did as he asked, setting their tools down on a table that stood near the wooden ring. The manager, quite flustered about others doubting his work, led his companions out of the shrine.

"I take it that this hierophant that they speak of is the one who commands this rabble," said Saruman.

"That is correct," said Ulfast. "The position was originally held by the Ringwraith before he left to join the rest of the Nine. Khamûl the Black Easterling he was called. The current hierophant organizes and oversees all of the cult's events, but he usually has one of his lackeys perform the rituals rather than do it himself, the damned coward. He will more than likely be at today's ritual, but dispatching him will be difficult. His personal guards are arguably better trained and equipped than the guards of the king himself, and he always keeps them close. Do you see that seat over there upon that dais? There is one of those at every ritual site, and it is the seat of the hierophant. He always sits there, just watching the ritual's proceedures, surrounded by his guards."

"Then what can we do here?" asked Saruman. "Should we try and disrupt the ceremony? Perhaps free the prisoners?"

"That's what I was thinking," said Alatar. "They always build these huge wooden rings for ceremonies. Prisoners are locked in those cells and burned alive as sacrifices to Sauron."

"I imagine that more guards than those of the hierophant will be close at hand," said Alatar. "I'm not sure how we are going to do this."

"You seem familiar with these rituals, Ulfast," said Saruman. "Do you know where the guards are usually positioned, besides the hierophant's personal guards?"

"There are two groups of guards," said Ulfast. "One will be positioned at the entrance of the ritual site to keep out anyone who might interfere. The other is positioned near wherever the prisoners end up in order to make sure that they don't escape."

"I know what we should do," said Saruman. "Before the ritual starts, we will need to remove the nails holding the back of the ring in place so that we can easily remove it entirely later. That will allow the prisoners to simply climb down the back of the structure and escape. This can be done without anyone knowing because I assume that the doors on the cells would be closed, therefore obscuring the prisoners as they climb down the back. After that, we will collapse the ring down on top of the guards. The guards who watch over the entrance to the shrine will have to be dealt with as the ritual is taking place so that we may get out safely."

"Ulfast and I can take care of the guards at the entrance," said Alatar. "I suppose that you can take care of the captives."

"Then let's get to work," said Ulfast.

They took the tools that the workers had been using before and set about removing the nails from the back of the ring, but being careful to make sure that the wooden planks didn't fall down on their own. Next, they took a ladder that had been used to aid in the ring's construction and put it at the edge of the balcony, therefore allowing the sacrifices to escape from the temple.

"I will hide behind the ring while I help the captives escape," said Saruman. "How are you two going to get back to the entrance to kill the guards?"

"The ritual begins after nightfall," said Ulfast. "All will be dark, and the only source of light will be the fire that will burn the ring and the sacrifices within. We can slip through the crowds in the shadows."

"And are you prepared to fight?" asked Saruman.

Ulfast reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a knife. "Absolutely. It may not look like much, but there's a surprising amount of damage you can do with this."

So the three of them waited there behind the wooden ring. Hours passed, and eventually the sun crept down below the horizon, and thus the night began. After a while, they could hear a great many voices from outside. A crowd of people entered the Shrine of Worship and filled the vast chamber. Saruman peeked through a small opening in the woodwork of the ring to see exactly what was going on, which was difficult due to the nearly complete blackness. Some men were setting a pile of wood at the base of the ring. A group of soldiers dragged in many visibly terrified prisoners and locked them within the cells of the ring, using a ladder to reach the higher cells. The guards remained next to the ring to ensure that nobody would escape. The last people to enter the room were a group of heavily armed and armored soldiers, along with a cloaked and hooded man, who sat down upon the stone seat on top of the dais. Saruman could just barely make out the outline of the man, but he could see the glimmer of a silver ring set with a blue gem on the man's finger.

"That man upon the chair," said Saruman. "Is that the hierophant?"

"Yes," said Ulfast. "If I am not mistaken, there will be no others entering the temple, since he is always the last to arrive."

"Then now is your opportunity," said Saruman. "After you have taken care of the guards outside, come back here, and perhaps we can kill or capture the hierophant if he attempts to escape."

Alatar and Ulfast silently made their way through the crowd, staying in the deepest shadows. Saruman set about removing the wooden planks from the back of the ring, making as little noise as possible. He helped the sacrifices climb down and showed them all out to the balcony, where they could climb down the ladder to safety.

As Saruman did his work, the ritual began. One lavishly dressed man stepped towards the wooden ring and raised his hands in the air.

"Mighty god of the earth! Bountiful lord of our orchards! Accept our sacrifice, and make our blossoms fruit!"

Everyone in the crowd repeated the words, while the hierophant just slouched on his chair, resting his chin upon his hand. The man conducting the ritual was handed a torch by one of the guards, and he proceeded to ignite the ring. Soon, the ring was entirely engulfed in flames, and the crowd began to cheer.

By this point, Saruman had already helped all of the prisoners make their escape. So, he took his staff and struck the burning ring as hard as he could, and the entire structure was blown straight into the guards surrounding it, killing them. The hierophant's reaction to this was to simply straighten his posture, and his guards readied their weapons. Saruman stood atop the remains of the structure.

"Awake, men of Rhûn!" he commanded. "Turn away from your false god and his prophets!"

"Heretic!" cried a man in the crowd. "You will pay for what you have done here tonight! The Dark Lord and God of the Earth will see to it!"

"A god, is he? Hardly! Especially compared to the Valar, who are enthroned in the West, and Eru, the Father of All, who created them. A god has the ability to create and mold his environment in the world to his liking. In that respect, Sauron is limited; impotent. He has only ever stolen and leeched off of the efforts of others. Why, I am more of a god than he will ever be. I created the prosperity of an abandoned fortress and created a great force of arms hardly to be rivaled. All your 'god' can do is take what does not belong to him, not through achievements by his own efforts and of his own virtues, of which he has none. Now away with you! All of you!"

Compelled by Saruman's voice, the followers of Sauron hurried out of the temple, but the hierophant and his guards remained upon the dais. The hierophant held out his hand to one of the guards, and he was handed a rod, which he then threw at Saruman. The rod landed at the wizard's feet, and he picked it up to inspect it. It was a long staff of black wood, and the crown resembled a snake devouring a blue stone. It was the staff of Pallando the Blue.

Alatar and Ulfast returned. Now that all of the other guards had been taken care of, Ulfast took the opportunity to throw his knife at the hierophant. However, he could not see well in the dark, and only managed to graze the hierophant's shoulder. Alatar raised his staff and unleashed a stream of blue energy, but one of the guards leaped in front of the attack, taking the blow for the hierophant. In response, two of the guards grabbed the hierophant by the arms and made for the stairwell, using themselves as human shields. The rest of the guards ran straight at the wizards, fighting with great vigor to cover the hierophant's escape. Ulfast, now unarmed, retreated behind his companions while they dispatched the guards. As soon as the guards were dead, the three of them hurried down the stairs to the entrance chamber, but by the time they got outside the temple, the hierophant and his remaining two guards had mounted horses and were escaping back to the city.

Alatar looked at the second staff that Saruman was holding. "Is that...?"

"Yes," said Saruman. "It seems we were too late. Even if Pallando does still live, it is clear that our enemies have no intention of revealing him. I am afraid that we will no longer receive Pallando's help. I have failed you."

"No," said Ulfast. "We can still carry on. We can still finish our plan to bring the local merchants to Gondor. Rhûn will be deprived of the driving force behind its economy, and we will thus finish Pallando's work for him."

Alatar took the staff of his fellow Blue Wizard from Saruman and fell to his knees. "Go," he said. "Do what you must. We will have to finish this without him."

Disappointed with himself, Saruman left Rhûn and went on the long journey back to Isengard. Once he arrived, he felt compelled to have another look in the Palantír. His gaze was immediately drawn back to the capital of Rhûn, and Sauron's horrid voice pervaded his mind once again.

"Here is something I have wanted to show you."

The vision of the Palantír became warped from what Saruman should have been looking at, and instead he was shown a vision of a small, dark room. Moonlight was shining in through a barred window, illuminating a man in a blue robe curled up against the wall. It was Pallando. Saruman could hear his voice, and he seemed nearly on the verge of tears.

"What do you want?" Pallando demanded to seemingly nobody in particular. "What do you want!?"

The vision dissolved, and Sauron left Saruman with one last message.

"He is distorted." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole thing with burning people alive in a big wooden thing is obviously based on The Wicker Man (the good one, not the awful remake), and the things that the guy who conducts the ritual says is based on some quotes from the original 1973 film. I chose to use a giant ring instead of a man because, you know, it's the Lord of the Rings, and the Rings of Power, and all that. It's symbolic or something, and that means this story is smart.


	26. Before the Storm

Ten years had passed since the attack on Dol Guldur and the failed attempt to find Pallando. Although Saruman was greatly displeased that he let Sauron escape and that he couldn't find his fellow wizard, he was pleased with all the progress in Isengard. He looked out from Orthanc and gazed upon the settlement on the slopes of Methedras, and saw that it was very different from the tiny village that had been built when he first settled in the previously decrepit fortress. While it was not nearly as grand as the likes of Minas Tirith, it was a city of a respectable size, perhaps comparable to Edoras. Strong houses of stone with marble pillars and tall watchtowers proudly displayed the emblem of the White Hand, and markets filled with silks, spices, and intricate handicrafts became a symbol of Isengard's wealth. Seeing that the people were doing just fine by their own efforts, Saruman did not burden them with harsh taxes or regulations. Whenever he needed money for his own purposes, he sold tools, jewelry, and silverware that he crafted in the forge in Orthanc's basement.

As Saruman stood atop the Pinnacle of Orthanc and observed the splendor of the Wizard's Vale, one of his servants approached him.

"My Lord Saruman, there is a messenger at the gates. He wants to speak with you."

"Hm? Did he say where he is from?"

"He claims to be a representative of both Rhûn and Harad."

Saruman sighed. He was very uncomfortable that an emissary from the east had come to his doorstep, but at the same time he was somewhat flattered that the emissary considered him important enough to go all the way to Isengard to talk to him. He descended the tower and went out to the Ringwall of Isengard. He didn't want to give the messenger the respect of opening the gate to greet him, so he instead went up to the battlements where spearmen and crossbowmen were stationed and looked down upon the emissary.

"State your business in Isengard," Saruman demanded.

"I have come by the request of the King of Rhûn and the chieftains of the Haradrim to seek an alliance with Saruman the Wise," said the messenger.

"Ha! Hardly! Unless the men of the east have something new to say about their relationship with the Dark Lord."

"But of course they do. Our bonds with Sauron are now stronger than ever, for now the Dark Lord has made his glorious return to Mordor. He invites all who wish to fight alongside the great force that will rule the world in return for subservience to him, and he will rule justly for the common good. This is your opportunity to join the winning side."

"I reject your offer," Saruman snarled. "Were you not a diplomatic messenger, I might be tempted to kill you right now. Now away with you! Your wretched master has nothing to offer me, nor any man in the west with any self-esteem."

With that, the messenger departed. Saruman returned to Orthanc and looked into the Palantír to confirm what the messenger had told him. His gaze fell upon Mordor, a barren wasteland bounded by treacherous mountain ranges. The Black Gate and the plateau of Gorgoroth were teeming with orcs, and in the foothills of the Ash Mountains, Barad-dûr was undergoing reconstruction. The orcs displayed flags bearing the emblem of the Eye of Sauron at the tops of the Towers of the Teeth, proclaiming their master's return. This confirmed what Saruman had been expecting for ten years.

Although Saruman's first instinct was to launch a preemptive attack, he considered that Mordor was not yet at its full strength. Besides, in the current state of Isengard's army, Mordor was impregnable. Saruman had also not forgotten how poorly he fared against Sauron's Easterling allies. Launching an immediate attack would accomplish nothing.

Therefore, Saruman retreated to his study to find the roots of his military problems. The first order of business was to figure out why his army performed poorly during the Easterlings' invasion of Gondor. The greatswords, polearms, which he came to refer to as 'crow's beaks,' and spears were able to defeat the cavalry easily, but the crossbows were outranged by the horse archers. Saruman's research led him to the conclusion that this was because despite the crossbows' heavy draw weight, they had a shorter draw length than most bows. So, he redesigned the crossbow so that it was much larger, and therefore giving it a draw length roughly equal to an average bow. He also increased the draw weight to such an extent that it could only be drawn by use of a rotating crank, and the tips of the bow were curved forward so that it was under constant tension from the string. If Saruman's mathematics were correct, the altered shape and increased draw weight and length would give the crossbows greatly improved range and power.

The next step to perfecting the Army of the White Hand was siege equipment. For this purpose, Saruman used the designs for Gondor's trebuchets. Additionally, he came up with his own artillery weapon, which was a great ballista that resembled an oversized version of Isengard's mithril crossbows.

Saruman also remembered that the Easterlings had been able to shoot his soldiers through the visors of their helmets. So, he designed a new helmet that had a slightly narrower visor, and was shaped so that arrows would be deflected to the sides rather than taking the full force of the arrow strike.

Communication was another problem that needed to be addressed. The Palantír did not enable Saruman to issue orders, and his single nightingale would have been insufficient for relaying orders to many lieutenants in a timely manner. Therefore, as much as Saruman detested it, he realized that he would need help from Radagast and his untold knowledge of birds. He sent his nightingale to Rhosgobel to ask Radagast to come to Isengard with a flock of crows.

While he waited for Radagast to complete the long journey to Isengard, Saruman gathered his new designs and brought them to the city's steel and mithril foundry, which was partially built into the mountainside. At this point, the foundry was a highly productive establishment, and one of the city's largest employers. It was filled with many furnaces expelling the smoke of the fires of an industry built by men wielding the noble powers of productivity.

Saruman entered the office of the foundry's owner and found the man keeping records of his company's output and counting a large pile of gold and silver coins. He set his new weapon plans down on the desk, and the manager took a look at them. Saruman noticed that the manager was wearing elegant red silk clothing with gold embroidery, similar to what the wealthier people had been wearing in Rhûn.

"New clothes?" Saruman said.

"Yes. These were sent to me by an Easterling. We got in contact when I exported some tools and machinery to Rhûn. Ulfast is his name, and he's coming to Isengard with some of his fellow merchants."

Saruman was delighted to hear that Ulfast's move to Isengard was still confirmed, and that he hadn't yet been eliminated by Rhûn's authorities.

"I presume that you've heard the news about the Easterling messenger," said Saruman.

"Yes," said the foundry's owner. "I know. Dark times are ahead, it seems."

"Agreed," said Saruman. "If we are to have any chance of success in the coming storm, I will need you to improve our arsenal."

"You want how many of these?" asked the manager.

"As many as you can with the materials you have," said Saruman.

"All right then," said the manager. "When do you want it done?"

"As soon as feasibly possible. Just get it done. I'll get the money for you."

"Ballistae this big and crossbows this numerous are going to eat up all the fuel I have left. If you want to pay for it, that's fine, but you should also know that you'll have to pay for more wood. A lot more wood."

"Consider it already done," said Saruman. "I'll even give you a plot of land east of the Ringwall for you to use as a tree farm free of charge. It may be time consuming, but Mordor cannot threaten us just yet."

"Alright, then," said the manager. "I'll see what I can do."

Satisfied with his deal, Saruman made his way back to Orthanc just as the sun was beginning to set, throwing the orange light of early evening upon Isengard. As he approached the tower, he saw someone at the entrance about to knock on the door. There, at the top of the stairs, was a dark-haired elven woman wearing a midnight-blue dress. It was Elrond's youngest child, Arwen.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of receiving your pleasantness in my realm?" asked Saruman as he climbed the stairs to approach Arwen.

Arwen turned to the wizard and smiled. "My Lord. I was on my way back home from Lothlorien, and I thought that I might ask if you would let me rest in Orthanc for the night."

"It would be my pleasure," said Saruman as he opened the door. "Come inside."

The pair entered the tower, and Saruman closed the door. "It's quite a long and tiresome journey from Lothlorien to Rivendell," he said. "You're free to stay as long as you like. If I refused, I'd never hear the end of it if your father found out. I take it that your brothers didn't go with you."

"No, they didn't," said Arwen as Saruman led the way up the tower's spiral staircase. "They are allegedly too busy to come visit our grandparents with me. They have said that they are instrumental in the training of Isildur's heir, but my father and Glorfindel have said otherwise."

"Oh, have they now? Well, it's their loss, seeing as you get to visit Orthanc now. Come, let us see if your mother isn't too busy at the moment."

"Just before I left, Galadriel and Celeborn recieved an emissary from the East," Arwen began before getting cut off by Saruman.

"I know, I know. I've heard the news. I think I've heard enough about it for one day. Please, let us go to the Palantír chamber."

They came into the Palantír chamber, and Saruman removed the black cloth that covered the Orthanc Stone. He looked into the stone and cast his gaze to the West. There, in the Tower of Avallónë, Melian lazily reclined in her armchair, reading a book.

"Good evening, sister," greeted Saruman. "It's good to see that you're still an industrious and productive individual."

Melian laughed. "I know, right?" she said without taking her eyes off of the book.

"Well, it seems that I have a surprise visitor. If you would go and find Celebrían, that would be lovely. I imagine she would like to see her daughter."

"Yes, yes," said Melian as she closed her book and reluctantly got up from her comfortable seat. "I think she's out in Olwë's garden right now."

With that, Melian exited the chamber of the Master Stone to fetch Celebrían.

"Please," Saruman said to Arwen as he motioned toward his large, throne-like seat. "Sit."

Arwen sat down as Saruman handed her the Palantír.

"I see my Lord deigns to see fit that someone other than the Lord of Isengard should sit on his throne," she said.

"Please, enough with 'My Lord.' I do not see why I shouldn't show courtesy in a peaceful gathering among friends. Now, if you don't mind, I have something to do."

"What are you doing?" questioned Arwen.

"Oh, I am just going down to my forge for a while. I've taken up jewelry smithing, you see."

Saruman left the Palantír chamber and descended the stairs that led into the basement. It was not often that Saruman received visits from Elrond's kin, but he enjoyed those occasions. Arwen, Elledan, and Elrohir seemed to view him as a kindly uncle, which he technically was. Whenever he saw them, Saruman understood Elrond's desire to protect them after the departure of Celebrían, and part of him felt guilty for pushing Elrond to abstain from using the powers of Vilya. However, another part of him was comforted that the bearers of the Elven Rings would soon have reason to use their full powers as a shield against evil. Until that happened, Saruman resolved to aid Elrond in the defense of all that he held dear by creating a weapon of his own.

He entered the forge and thought of all the things that he had created there, all his wondrous creations that enriched people's lives. He imagined the things that might have come out of the forges of Sauron, his fellow student of Aulë. Saruman was not convinced that anything had ever come from Sauron's work except destruction, and to think that Sauron had the audacity to call himself a god when he had never done any creative work. While Saruman had no pretensions about being a god himself, he firmly believed that he was more godly than Sauron could ever hope to be.

Thus far, Saruman strove to match Sauron's power by building up his own power. He had a fortress to match Barad-dûr, an army to more than match the Orc hordes, and allies to match the King of Rhûn and the chieftains of the Haradrim. Now, all of Saruman's research about the ways of Sauron and the Rings of Power led him to believe that there was but one thing for which he had yet to match Sauron: his own Ring of Power.

For a long while, Saruman labored in the creation of his Ring of Power, putting far more time and effort into it than he would for any ordinary piece of jewelry. He created a metal alloy from both mithril and steel, and heated it to an incredibly high temperature to make it malleable enough to shape properly. He hammered it into a perfect circle, the most perfect that he had ever made. When the metal cooled, it turned black. He took a small, translucent white stone, polished it into a perfectly smooth oval, and set it upon the black band.

Throughout this process, Saruman remembered how a Sauron had infused the One Ring with strength. When the Dark Lord poured his power into the Ring, he also poured into the Ring the very contents of his heart: all-consuming malice and the desire to dominated all life in the world. So, throughout the process of making his own Ring, Saruman infused it with his magic as well as the contents of his own heart. When he used magic to create the fire that heated the ring to such an extreme temperature, that fire was fueled by his desire for revenge against Sauron. The strength of each hammer stroke that shaped the band was channeled from his intense hatred that he directed at Sauron. The black ring with the white gem was a product of what Saruman saw as his own essence, that which filled his heart with strength and gave him purpose.

By the time Saruman was done, it was nearly midnight. Arwen had placed the Palantír back on its pedestal and went to sleep in one of the guest chambers. Saruman looked into the Orthanc Stone to see if Melian had gone to sleep yet, and he saw that she had decided to stay up late and read that book of hers.

"I thought that you should see this," said Saruman, and he held up his right hand with his Ring of Power on the index finger.

"A ring?" Melian said.

"Not just any ring. What you see before you is the twenty-first Ring of Power, crafted by my own hand. It is the most perfect of my creations, and I will use it to lead Isengard through the coming war with Mordor now that Sauron has returned."

"How did you go about doing this? Even the Three are vulnerable to Sauron's influence even though he did not touch them because they were made with Sauron's techniques."

"The only thing that my Ring shares with the One is that they were both created by the power, will, and character of their creators. My Ring is wholly different from the others. It is my creation, not his."

"Then," said Melian, "I would think that this was a wise thing to do. If the bearers of the Elven rings cannot use them for fear of Sauron's influence, then a Ring completely free from him will be an advantage. Use its power wisely, and be sure that Sauron can neither touch it nor learn of it in any way."

"Yes," said Saruman. "I think that would be wise."

They bade each other good night, and Saruman covered the Palantír with the black cloth and retired to his chambers for the night.

And so the final game had begun. The pieces were set, and Saruman now only needed to make his move.

 


	27. The West Mobilizes

Radagast arrived in Isengard not long after Arwen had left, and he brought with him a great flock of crows, just as Saruman had asked. When Saruman came out of Orthanc to greet him, the Brown Wizard looked quite flustered.

"What is going on?" Radagast asked.

"You see, I needed some more birds for communication purposes," said Saruman. "It's quite a lot of work for my one nightingale."

"No, not that! What is going on just east of the Ringwall? Those men are chopping down the trees!"

"I sold that plot of land to the city's steelworks to use as a tree farm. I presented the manager with some new weapon designs, and he demanded that I pay for the fuel, and that tree farm was part of the deal. I had my servants work out the specifics, and I think that we were both quite satisfied with our bargain."

"I don't understand," said Radagast dispiritedly. "Why? Can't you get by without such destruction?"

"Perhaps you weren't listening," said Saruman. "It's a tree farm. Do you really think that we would continuously cut down trees until our source of fuel is entirely depleted? Those trees will be replanted, just as crops are replanted after being harvested. Why must you be so aggressive about all this? Are we not on the same side? Can we not put this matter to rest, and have peace between us? Please, Radagast. I am not a madman, and my people are good people only seeking to make their way in the world."

Radagast sighed. He had always thought that the destruction of the trees to any degree was a morally reprehensible crime. But here was Saruman showing that he truly did not mean any harm, and that he was trying his best to avoid needless destruction while also putting the trees to good use.

"I suppose," said Radagast with a slightly weaker voice, "that it cannot be so bad if you replace what was lost."

"By the time all is done," said Saruman, "the forest will remain. We might as well take advantages of the resources available to us."

"I should apologize for being not very cooperative with you," said Radagast. "There's been too much friction between us for far too long, and I've not done much to fix that."

"No, no," said Saruman. "I must apologize to you. I've shown you little respect when all you've done is carry out your mission as best that you can. Should we not have good-natured companionship?"

"Yes," said Radagast. "I will respect you as long as you do not advocate needless destruction. Let us work with each other instead of against each other."

"Then we are settled here," said Saruman. "Thank you for the birds. They will be most helpful. Return to your home in Mirkwood, and continue your work."

Pleased that they had resolved their animosity, Radagast commanded the crows to stay in Isengard and follow Saruman's instructions, and he departed. The crows very quickly made themselves at home, settling in the trees of whatever area of the fortress they saw fit.

Back in the study of Orthanc, Saruman continued with his experiments and designs. While he was satisfied with the large ballistae, their use was restricted to that of pure siege weaponry. So, he made a variant of the weapon, only it was smaller and meant as field artillery. Whereas the siege-oriented ballistae could launch massive, heavy bolts relatively short distances, the field artillery would launch much smaller, lighter projectiles a distance of almost two thousand feet with superb accuracy. Saruman took these designs to the foundry and found that he would have to put up with an even greater payment, much to his annoyance.

For some time, Saruman sat quiet in Isengard, trying to find the perfect time and place to make the first strike. He put his Ring away in a drawer of the desk in his study, seeing that the time to use it was yet to come. He still went out and played golf and sold jewelry and silverware in the marketplace, but all the while he was trying to imagine what he could do to best harm Sauron while the Dark Lord was still building up his forces.

The answer came in the form of a messenger from Rivendell, who told said that Elrond was requesting for Saruman to call a White Council meeting in Rivendell. Saruman saw no reason to refuse, so he sent out his new flock of crows to fetch all the members of the council.

Saruman arrived in Rivendell and seated himself at the council table with the rest of the Wise. Elrond, Gandalf, Radagast, Galadriel, and Glorfindel were all present.

"I have called this meeting," said Saruman, "at the request of the Lord Elrond, so I would like you, my friend, to tell us what we shall discuss here today."

"As we are all aware," said Elrond, "Sauron has returned to Mordor, where he intends to rebuild his armies. Now is the time to make our move. The Gondorian forces of Steward Ecthelion are turning their attention toward the east, and Saruman has taken great measures to build up strength in Isengard. Radagast, what news have you from Thranduil's realm?"

"He seems content to stay in his halls," said Radagast. "Sauron's return has not moved him even in the slightest. He will not easily contribute to the war effort, leaving the task of driving evil from the forest to me."

"Unfortunate," said Elrond. "But that is not so great a loss, for a new leader can help us. Isildur's heir has come of sufficient age. Estel we call him here, but Aragorn he was named by his father. He is almost ready to join the fight against Sauron."

"Why, exactly, should he be of use to us?" questioned Saruman. "So he is the heir to the throne of Gondor. What of it? None of his ancestors have put forth their claim upon the throne in the past, and we have gotten by rather well. Why will this one be of particular importance?"

"Because he can bring all the hosts of the men of the west under a single banner," said Elrond. "When Gondor sees that their King has not forsaken them, that will rally the men of Rohan, Eriador, and all other men to join the fight. You see, the elves are not as mighty as they once were, the dwarves stay in their mountains, and you, Saruman, are do not command enough favor outside of Isengard to unite the men of the west."

"He is right," said Glorfindel. "And you should not doubt Aragorn. I have personally helped Elrond train him, and he is a mighty warrior and an a skilled leader."

"I can attest to that statement," said Gandalf. "Aragorn is a good friend of mine, and I have taught him much of what I have learned during my travels."

"I am not convinced," said Saruman. "I do not believe that he is ready. He will need to prove himself before I dedicate my resources to his command, and there is much yet to do before the Stewards of Gondor willingly relinquish their rule."

"I thought you might say that," said Elrond. "That is why I propose that we make our first move against the east something of a test for Aragorn. Umbar has announced their alliance with Sauron. It lies on the western coast of Harad, and is therefore vulnerable to an attack from the sea. We can gather small amounts of warriors from our allies, integrate them into a single force under Aragorn's command, and have Círdan and Steward Ecthelion prepare a fleet that will transport Aragorn and his force to Umbar, where he will kill the Captain of the Haven."

"Do we really want to pester Círdan with the troubles of war?" asked Saruman. "It is up to us to protect him and his people. He will not be vanquished until all else falls. He is focusing all his efforts on sending the remainder of the elves to Valinor, and he is under no obligation to divert his attention to help us. I say we let the mariner tend to his ships, as is his task."

"That is for Círdan to decide," said Galadriel. "It would not be so difficult for him to grant Aragorn a few ships. I'm sure that he would be eager to help our efforts however he can."

"Aragorn is in Lindon even as we speak," said Elrond. "He will bring back word of Círdan's decision soon enough."

"Very well," said Saruman. "If Círdan and Ecthelion agree to spare some ships, send Isildur's heir to gather troops for his expedition. If we are all in agreement, then this meeting is concluded."

When Saruman returned to Isengard, he decided to take a walk through the forests of the Wizard's Vale not far from the gate of Isengard. As he walked, he came upon a man with light brown hair and a short, scruffy beard holding a bow. The man threw a small rock at a bush a considerable distance away, startling a small bird hidden inside. As the bird took flight, the man very quickly drew his bow, aimed, and shot the bird out of the air.

"What are you doing?" asked Saruman, making his presence known.

"So sorry, my Lord," said the man. "If you don't want me doing this out here, I'll be on my way."

"It's no problem," said Saruman. "What remarkable skill you have. Have you considered joining the Army of the White Hand? There is a considerable amount of money that I would be willing to pay for skill such as yours."

"Maybe" said the archer. "I only just moved to Isengard a couple of months ago, and I'm looking for employment. I lived in the village of Bree where I worked with the Dunedain Rangers, but I heard that there were opportunities here. A lot of my friends and family moved here, so I thought that I might do so as well."

"Well, I assure you that I will pay you better than anything the Rangers of the north could have offered."

"In that case," said the man, "I'll get together with all my friends and sign up. A lot of people who live in Isengard are from Eriador, like me, or are descended from refugees from Arnor. We may not be of the royal Numenorean blood, but I'll be damned if we don't got the chops for combat. A lot of my friends are some of the best archers you're likely to meet, and we'll be happy to lend a bow for a small fee."

"Excellent," said Saruman. "What is your name?"

"The name's William Ferny, but most people call me Bill."

"Well then, Master Ferny, gather your friends, and we have ourselves a deal. You shall be the Orthanc Rangers."

"A pleasure, my Lord," said Bill as they shook hands.

"Thank you. We will work out the specifics later."

Saruman left Bill to his devices and made his way back to Orthanc. A few days later, there was a visitor at the front door. Saruman opened the door, and there was a tall man with long, dark brown hair and well-worn traveling clothes and a sword that hung in a scabbard at his side.

"Who are you?" asked Saruman.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," said the man, speaking with unwavering confidence and surety. "I have been sent by Elrond of Rivendell to seek Saruman the Wise"

"I take it that the expedition to Umbar is confirmed," said Saruman.

"It is," said Aragorn. "Círdan the Shipwright has agreed to set aside some ships for this purpose, and I was told that you would send some troops."

"Yes," said Saruman. "I will grant you a unit of spears, crows' beaks, crossbows, and my newly established Orthanc Rangers. I'll even send a few Guards of Orthanc. I have a murder of crows trained to convey signals, and they will report back to me. I'm afraid I can't spare many more troops, so you'll have to ask Thengel and Ecthelion. You might also ask Ecthelion for more ships."

Saruman invited Aragorn inside to work out exactly how many troops would go to Umbar, and soon Aragorn was on his way to Rohan with a small force of Isengard soldiers, among whom were the Orthanc Rangers led by Bill Ferny. Now, all Saruman needed to do was wait. The wheels of Isengard's mighty industry were grinding against the east, and a great new commander was about to strike the first blow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the books, Bill Ferny was a man from Bree who had a reputation as a scumbag who traded information about people. In this story, that's still not entirely untrue, as we will be seeing soon. He's also a lot more badass than he was in the books.


	28. Chapter 28

Bill Ferny felt a gentle breeze as he leaned against the ship's railing, grinding a whetstone along the edge of his knife. He, along with all the Orthanc Rangers, had been given a chainmail shirt, a hooded black cloak, and a new longbow when they joined the Army of the White Hand. Bill had even been named the Captain of the Orthanc Rangers. After they left Isengard, led by a ranger from the north, they travelled to Edoras, where King Thengel granted them a battalion of foot soldiers, unusual for Rohan, which usually favored cavalry. Next, they went to Minas Tirith, where Steward Ecthelion lent them spearmen and archers.

Now here they all were, sailing on ships from Lindon and Gondor on their way to Umbar. Though most of the men from Isengard were spread out on all of the ships, the Orthanc Rangers all stayed together on the same Gondorian vessel. While Bill was sharpening his knife, he watched as his fellow Rangers practiced throwing knives at a mast, which Bill did not do because he liked his knife too much to try throwing it. He looked over to a nearby Elven ship that carried some of the Guards of Orthanc, whom Bill recognized by their massive swords. There were also some of the soldiers who carried the strange 'crows beak' polearms.

While the others were having friendly interactions with the Gondorians and Rohirrim, Bill kept mostly to himself. He did have friends among the Orthanc Rangers, but at the moment he just wanted to sharpen his knife. It was an excellent single-edged knife that his father had given to him. The blade had a thick, straight spine and a curved edge. The guard was brass, the grip was made of black buffalo horn, and the pommel was of bone, all of it perfectly and beautifully polished.

While Bill was sharpening his knife, he glanced around to try to find that ranger of the north. That man seemed sinisterly shady, yet oddly familiar. He heard that the ranger went by many names, such as Estel and Thorongil. Bill also heard rumors that the ranger had another name that was used only in private meetings, and known only to the Wise.

Suddenly, there was a strong hand on his shoulder, and he let out a gasp of fright. He turned around, and there was the mysterious ranger, cloaked in mottled and well-worn black traveling gear.

"Careful, sir!" Bill exclaimed as he sheathed his knife. "You damn well nearly scared me to death! With all these mean-looking soldiers about, I thought you were going to rough me up. I was just about ready to stab you."

The ranger pulled out his own knife and seized Bill by the collar. "I could say the same thing myself, Mister Ferny."

"What are you on about? You seem to be making me out to be some cretin, which I most certainly am not. I was but a humble woodsman, and now the Captain of the Orthanc Rangers."

"Oh, really? Just a simple woodsman? I wonder, is that what you told Saruman? He would have had you thrown from the Pinnacle of Orthanc if he knew that you are experienced in more than just archery. You and I both know that you are but a cowardly, lying snake who would never hesitate to stab your benefactors in the back at the promise of power. It was a mistake for the Dunedain to trust you."

Bill raised his eyebrows, now realizing the ranger's identity. "Oh yes, I think I know you. Strider, is it? At least, if that even is your real name. How many people know who you really are? From what I've heard, your name changes everywhere you go. And you call me a liar."

"The time will come when all will be revealed," said Strider. "But not until I have come to my full purpose. Regardless, you are a fraud, Mister Ferny. You trade in sensitive information, and you gave away the names of several Rangers and the whereabouts of their encampment near Bree to a pack of bandits in return for an opportunity to thieve some Dunedain coin."

"That's not what I do anymore," said Bill. "Times were tough, but I've found new opportunities. I've committed no crimes since I left Eriador. I am an upstanding individual now."

"I will be the judge of that," said Strider as he thrust Bill away. "This is your chance to prove yourself. The wealth and power of Umbar can be tempting, but I expect that you will not defect. Should you prove that you are now worthy of trust, I might be tempted to grant you pardon for your transgressions, courtesy of the Dunedain Rangers."

"Oh, you've got yourself a deal, sir," said Bill eagerly. "You'll see. I'm a new man, a faithful warrior. Now, you just need to let me prove it."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter essentially establishes that Bill is a bad man, but he claims that he's reformed. Is he truly an honest man now, or is he the world's biggest liar? I know the answer. Do you?


	29. The Fallen Haven

The fighting began almost immediately after the ships landed at the port of Umbar. Arrows flew in both directions, resulting in many deaths on both sides only moments after the men of the West started getting off of the ships.

Led by the ranger Strider, they forced a retreat of the initial defense, albeit with some difficulty. They were surprised at how robust Umbar's defense was. It was almost as though they had expected an attack.

Though they were without horses, the Rohirrim were skilled warriors, and they charged forth into the city, chasing down their foes until they encountered numbers too great to overcome, and they retreated back to the side of their allies. All the while, they were being assailed by arrows that flew from watchtowers that overlooked the harbor. By Strider's command, the infantry rushed into the towers and cleared them out, leaving the towers to be occupied by the Orthanc Rangers.

Once Bill had reached the top of one of the towers, he led his rangers in supporting the other soldiers by raining arrows down upon their enemies. Down below, he saw that Strider's advance had been halted by a new, more stable line of defense of the men of Umbar. Beyond the streets and plazas where much of the fighting was taking place was a grand palace, which Bill guessed housed the haven's captain.

Suddenly, a great murder of crows flew in from the west, and they began to circle in the sky above Umbar. The air was filled with their cries and the flapping of wings while the battle raged on. Bill payed them little mind, and continued to shoot arrows into Umbar's defensive formations.

It was not long before Bill determined that the battle had reached a standstill. The men on the ground were not making progress quickly enough. From his vantage point, he saw a secluded alleyway that he might take to get to the palace. He relinquished command of the Rangers to his lieutenant, until such time that he might return. He descended the tower and discretely made his way down that empty street, bypassing the battleground.

At the end of the alleyway, he found himself near the side of the palatial mansion. The only thing barring his way was a protective wall. He went around to the front gate, and saw that it was guarded by the best armed and armored soldiers in Umbar. Bill raised his empty hands and approached the guards.

"I wish to have audience with the captain of the haven," said Bill.

"Who are you to have words with the captain?" questioned one of the guards. "While swords are drawn and the battle rages, there is little use for talking"

"I am Bill Ferny, captain of the Orthanc Rangers, and I have a great deal of knowledge that will be of help to you. There is nobody accompanying me, and I'll even give up my weapons if you'll let me have a word."

The guard laughed. "Oh ho! It is not every day that an agent of our enemies willingly gives himself up as a prisoner of war to give us aid. Fine, then. Give us your weapons, and come with us."

Bill gave them his knife, bow, and arrows, and followed them through the gate and into the palace. He was brought into an elegant parlor where a large, imposing man with a great black beard sat at a table.

"This is Captain Bill Ferny," said one of the guards. "He surrendered himself hoping to give you information."

"Sit, Captain Ferny," the bearded man commanded in a low, rumbling voice, and Bill complied while the guards returned to their posts.

"I am the captain of this haven. I heard whispers of troops being gathered in the west to attack this place, but you can imagine my surprise when one of their own willingly turns himself over to me."

"Oh yes," said Bill. "My allies are not about to win this fight anytime soon. Those piteous bastards are making so little headway in the battle right now. It's clear that just the slightest push will break them, and I can help you make that push."

"We shall see," said the captain. "I know your type. You'll backstab just about anyone for the right price, correct? For your cooperation, I will pay with gold from my own personal hoard. The treasure that you will receive will be far more than what the western powers can pay."

"Yes, yes, yes," Bill said eagerly. "It's completely worth it. I will not fail you. I can get your men into an easy position to kill the commander and utterly cripple those fools. Yes, I'm unquestionably certain, heh heh heh."

The captain stood up and led Bill out of the parlor. On the way out of the mansion, he called on his guards to come to the front gates. Soon, a good two dozen soldiers had assembled at the gate before the captain, and Bill had his weapons returned to him.

"This is Bill Ferny," said the captain. "He is an enemy insider. You will follow him, and he will show you where to strike and repel our adversaries. On with you! Now!"

"Come on, lads" said Bill as the captain retreated back into the mansion.

Bill led the soldiers out of the gate and to the alleyway that he had used to get to the mansion. The alley was so narrow that they all had to walk in single file. They were now between the harbor and the battleground, still undetected by any of the combatants, including those in the watchtowers. Bill brought the soldiers into the shadows behind a house.

"There he is," said Bill, pointing to Strider, who was engaged in combat alongside his men. "That there ranger commands this rabble. He is the primary target. Kill him, kill his men, and this whole thing is over. Don't you dally. Go on, now! Run them down!"

With that, the Umbar soldiers rushed out from the shadows and ran toward the men of the west, eager to execute a hammer-and-anvil strike. Bill went along with them, but he soon let himself fall behind. He grabbed the nearest straggler by his mail shirt and plunged his knife into the man's heart. He took up his bow and shot several more Umbar soldiers before they knew what was happening. The others stopped and turned around upon hearing their comrades' cries of death, and they angrily advanced upon Bill, shouting abuse at him, though it was nothing that he hadn't heard before. Bill dispatched a few of them with his bow, but he could not take on all of them, and he started to back away.

Suddenly, a sword was thrust through one of them, and the man fell dead. The sword was held by Strider, who singlehandedly overwhelmed the remaining soldiers with astounding skill and agility. When they were all dead, Strider approached Bill.

"Oh, thank goodness you came along," said Bill. "They had me trembling in my boots. It's a lucky thing we stopped them. They were about to attack us from behind."

"Where did they come from?" Strider demanded. "What route did they take?"

"They came out of a narrow alley just down that way. Why, you sound as though you think that I'm to blame for this."

"I wouldn't put it past you," said Strider. "We both know what you're capable of. Fetch your men."

Bill ran back to the watchtower and called all his men to follow him. He led them to the opening of the alleyway where Strider was waiting.

"They came from this way?" asked Strider.

"Yes," Bill assured. "Would I ever lie to you?"

"You lead the way," Strider ordered. "You're not leaving my sight."

Bill did as he was told, and led the way through the alley, and they were at the side of the palace wall. They went around to the front gate, and Bill could see that there were considerably fewer guards in the palace courtyard.

"Well, would you look at that! I could be wrong, but I think those men that you killed earlier were supposed to be the captain's elite guards. Now here we are, behind enemy lines, and with the palace guards diminished. How convenient!"

Strider and the Orthanc Rangers advanced as the guards stood their ground, but a lieutenant of Umbar at the primary line of battle took notice and ordered his men to retreat in an effort to defend the palace. Soon, Strider and Bill's men were surrounded. In the confusion, Bill slipped through the gate and rushed into the palace. He found the captain of the haven in the parlor.

"What did you do!?" the captain questioned. "Where are the men that I sent!?"

"Oh, such a tragedy. Those poor souls had to be sacrificed for the greater good. But their loss was not in vain. The enemy attempted to storm the gates, but now they are surrounded by your main force and the remainder of your guards. Just go to the balcony upstairs and have a look."

The captain rose from his seat and stormed out of the room, nearly throwing Bill out of the way. Bill followed him upstairs and out to a balcony that overlooked the palace courtyard. While the main force of Umbar had closed in on the Orthanc Rangers, the entirety of the men of the west had chased them down and began to slaughter them.

The captain stood silently, leaning against the railing, stunned at the disaster before him. Bill, wanting to flaunt his success, proceeded to kick the captain in the back, sending him tumbling down from the balcony onto the ground below. The captain grunted in pain as he stood back up, and he heard Bill laughing giddily.

"This is what I do, my friend!" Bill declared. "The trinkets I'll be stripping from your town, that's the real treasure!"

Shaking with anger, the captain drew a broad-bladed sword and made to go back into the palace to seek retribution against Bill, but Strider was upon him in an instant. The hulking brute slashed wildly in a blind rage, but his wide swings left him vulnerable, and Strider soon cut him down. The remaining warriors of Umbar, never ones to surrender, fought until the end, content to have died in battle. When the fighting was over, the men of the west regrouped back at the harbor.

"Victory is ours on this day," the ranger announced. "With the inhabitants of this place gone and many resources taken with them, we should lessen the value of this city to deter our enemies. Prepare the ships, and burn the docks"

As the men set about fulfilling their orders, Strider pulled Bill aside.

"You are a slippery person, Bill Ferny," said Strider.

"Now, wait just a moment!" Bill interrupted. "Do you think I'll of me? Me?"

"Yes," said Strider. "If you had chosen to do so, you could have killed us all."

"Oh, it pains me to hear it," said Bill. "You've made yourself a misreckoning. I shared with you a way to break the stalemate. Now, we've seen ourselves a great victory. You should appreciate it, if you have a grain of gratitude in you."

"Your lord can be the judge of that," said Strider. "We are finished here." With that, Strider returned to his ship. Behind him, Bill laughed.

"Yes, appreciate it! Appreciate it!"

In the sky above Umbar, the flock of crows stopped their circling motions and flew over the sea to the west.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill seems to enjoy screwing with people. He's still a profoundly dishonest person, but it worked out well in the end. If any of you have played Demon's Souls or Dark Souls, you may have noticed that I drew inspiration from Patches, that lying son of a bitch. But I like him anyway. Patches is a pretty cool guy. Eh pushes people off cliffs to loot their corpses and doesn't afraid of anything.


	30. Late Night Musings

Saruman awoke in his great black seat within the Palantír chamber. He remembered that he had been wracking his brain over the next steps in his plans, and he had neglected to go to bed. It was dark, and the interior of the tower was illuminated only by the moonlight, which made the black stone of Orthanc gleam beautifully.

With some effort, he got up, and slowly made his way across the room. He threw open the doors to the balcony and stepped outside to breath the open air. All was silent, save for a lonely breeze that whispered in his vast gardens. The gatehouse that defended the entry point into Isengard had a few lit torches, indicating the alertness of the Guards of Orthanc.

The wizard leaned on the balcony's railing. After admiring the beauty of Isengard beneath the moon, his mind wandered back to the matter of Aragorn. To his knowledge, the ranger was still leading the campaign in Umbar. While the attack on the haven city could prove useful in frustrating the enemies of the West, Saruman saw it as a test of Aragorn's potential. If he was to be the next King of Gondor, he would have to be a very powerful warrior and commander indeed. If all went well in Umbar, then Saruman surmised that the ranger would make for a competent leader.

But Saruman wondered what made a true king. Some claimed that it was birthright, while others called it destiny. Perhaps it was not important, as long as the king's name served to unite his people. That was what Saruman had gathered from his own experience as Lord of Isengard. He was no king, but the people who lived in the city upon the slopes of Methedras rallied to his voice, and the grand black throne within Orthanc served as a seat of power. In this sense, his authority as the lord of the fortress was legitimized, or so he believed.

But the most meaningful question to Saruman was what Aragorn wanted: to put forward his claim upon the rule of Gondor, or to leave it to the Steward. Perhaps the Southern Kingdom was sufficiently powerful, and thus needed no king. But the country had lost much of what it once had. In some ways, it had lost everything, but waited patiently for the return of their beloved monarch nonetheless.

If Isildur's heir proceeded, Sauron would come after him, knowing that he would take the throne and bolster Gondor's forces. The Lord of the Rings coveted power and dominion over all life, and he would very much love to bring down a champion of men. But Saruman was confident. The would-be king should, in the plans of Saruman, serve as a bulwark against Mordor while the White Wizard perfected his method of destroying Sauron forever. Locked away within his private study, imbued with his hatred, was what he hoped would be the instrument of Sauron's destruction.

In the distance, a flock of crows flew in the moonlit night back to their master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe you all a profound apology for the massive wait. I am so, so sorry for that. I really have no excuse. That was awful of me, and I apologize profusely.
> 
> I am still going to continue all of my ongoing stories, and I am hoping to start another one soon.
> 
> Sorry that not much happens in this chapter, and sorry that it's not very long. It mainly serves to help me get back into the swing of things.


	31. A Question of Snakes

The morning sun shined down upon Isengard. Saruman stood atop a small hill, preparing to hit a golf ball with his club. He was joined by a few men who served as smiths in the workshop of the city upon Methedras. Some of the Guards of Orthanc could be seen patrolling the ringwall as well as near the black tower itself. There were only a few of them, since most of the guardians of the wizard's tower were not on active duty during peacetime.

Just as Saruman raised his club, one of the Guards of Orthanc approached, accompanied by a familiar figure in luxurious clothing dyed purple.

"My lord, this man claims to be an acquaintance of yours," the guard declared.

Saruman raised his eyebrows with surprise. "Yes, indeed. A long expected visitor. Thank you, my good man. Return to your post."

The guard bowed and walked away. Saruman handed his club to one of his golfing friends, who handed him his staff.

"Carry on," said Saruman. "I have private matters to discuss with my dear friend."

"I'm sorry it's been so long," said Ulfast as the two of them wandered among the trees.

"No, no, it's quite alright. It's a long way from Rhûn, after all. So, tell me of the happenings in the east."

Ulfast sighed. "Alatar and I attempted to capture the King of Rhûn to force him to tell us where to find Pallando. But all did not go well. We tried to take him as he was preparing to give his annual speech to the public, but we were unsuccessful. We barely made it out of the palace with our lives. We tried to track down the hierophant of Sauron's cult, but he slipped away."

"Then it is over for Pallando. We must continue on without him."

"Tragic," Ulfast sighed. "Tragic times, that a friend should be abandoned in the accursed realm of Sauron's followers. Alatar will be heartbroken."

"What about you? What will you do now?"

"I think I will set up shop here. That town of yours up on the mountain will no doubt be a good place for business. I have some friends who are here already. I think they're waiting for me. If you don't mind, I need to go and help them set up our business. There's money waiting to be made."

Ulfast walked away to make his way up to the town, while Saruman continued to roam through the vast gardens of his fortress. While he was enjoying the splendor of Isengard, he was approached by Bill Ferny, who was accompanied by two Guards of Orthanc.

"My lord," said one of the guards, "this man is suspected of treason against you. All reports regarding his actions at the attack on Umbar were reviewed by the chieftain of the Dunedain Rangers, and he recommended that we turn Captain Ferny over to you."

Bill looked panicked. "My lord, I can explain." He stumbled with his words as he spoke.

"No need. My crows told me everything. They saw everything. I know that your defection to Umbar was in fact a ploy to draw away the Captain of the Haven's guards, before leading the rangers to a position from which they could attack the enemy from behind. You're tactics are dangerous, and an incident like this makes it hard to tell if or when you might truly betray us. But, no harm was done in the end, and the battle was won with your help. You may be a snake, but you are a well-trained snake, the better to bite our enemies when they least expect it."

"So, I still have your trust?" asked Bil. "If so, great. Thanks for that."

"Only as long as you work to deliver victory to Isengard. But if you draw your weapons against us, I will dispose of you myself. Do you understand?"

"Absolutely, lord. The pay is too good for me to actually backstab you."

"Then off with you. Guards, you are dismissed."

Saruman returned to Orthanc. He considered going back to his friends to continue their game of golf, but he was feeling tired, even though it was morning. He stopped at the base of the tower to look at his rose bushes. He picked a rose as white as his own robes, and he took it inside. He went up to his balcony and called forth his nightingale. The little bird that had been with him since he left Valinor fluttered up to him and perched itself on his index finger. Saruman held up the white rose, and the bird took it in its beak. Saruman then sent it off with instructions to give the flower to Melian, just to show that he was still thinking of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I was going to write a chapter about how Ulfast tries to find Pallando before leaving Rhûn, but I couldn't be arsed, so you get some dialogue about it instead.
> 
> The War of the Ring is not long off, and soon we'll get to some very interesting plot points that I'm really looking forward to.


	32. Gandalf's Investigation

It was in the pale rays of morning that Saruman found himself wandering the wilder parts of his garden near the ring wall of Isengard. He intended to enjoy the splendor of the Wizard's Vale and breathe the free air for a while before delving back into the forges of Orthanc and setting to work.

As he strolled on near the gate, the guards alerted him to Radagast approaching the fortress. They opened the gate, recognizing him as a Wizard and an ally of their lord. When the gate was closed again, Radagast gave a small, polite bow, and Saruman smiled warmly.

"Would you like to join me for breakfast?" Saruman asked. "A good morning meal and some rest will serve you well."

"No, I'm quite fine," said Radagast. "I've already eaten and rested as I came into the valley. Please, let us walk. Isengard is too pretty a sight for us to sequester ourselves away in the confines of your tower."

And so they walked among the trees, and Radagast delighted the shade of the tall trees and the songs of the birds. Saruman had hoped that his colleague would enjoy the forest, so he appreciated Radagast's approval. He knew that he wasn't one of Yavanna's people, but perhaps he was competent as an amateur gardener.

"Mirkwood is a very long way from here," said Saruman. "Why have you made such a journey?"

The shorter Wizard swung his staff up at the branch of an apple tree to knock down a fresh fruit, which he stowed away in his rugged traveling bag. "Oh, it's not so hard. As long as you're prepared to find shelter and set up a little camp, you'll be alright. Gandalf does it all the time." He blinked, realizing he forgot to answer the question. "Oh yes. Gandalf. I wanted to tell you that he's been traveling extensively, looking for answers to questions that he says have been troubling him."

Saruman raised a dark eyebrow. "What sort of questions?"

"Well, he's been trying to find the creature Gollum. Do you know of him?"

Saruman planted his staff firmly in the soil and leaned against it. "Hmm... I have only passing knowledge of a being by that name. A little Hobbit... or something like one?"

Radagast nodded. "Yes. According to Gandalf, Bilbo Baggins had an encounter with him during the Quest of Erebor, deep in the tunnels of the Misty Mountains."

"Of course he'd be down there... it's probably my own presence that has prevented him from slinking down south from the mountains, just like the orcs."

"That may be," said Radagast. "But he has slunk not south, but east. He followed young Bilbo out of the caves, and so Gandalf has been searching for him in Rhovanion. He's even employed the help of Estel, the ranger from Rivendell."

"And has he found this Gollum?"

Radagast scratched his chin. "I don't know."

"Very well," said Saruman. "Go and find Gandalf. When he has completed his errand and found the answers that he seeks, tell him to come to me. I would like him to share his findings. Then, return to Rhosgobel. Be watchful over Mirkwood. Darkness has not yet relinquished its grip upon the forest, and I would hate to see Radagast the Brown lose what he seeks to defend."

"And so I shall. Farewell Saruman, and thank you."

Saruman saw Radagast out the gate of Isengard, and saw the Brown Wizard safely out of the valley from his balcony in Orthanc. Once Radagast was beyond his sight, Saruman turned and entered the Palantír chamber. He gazed into the Orthanc stone and looked out to the East.

The orcs of Mordor were growing in number, pouring out of Barad-dûr, now rebuilt. To the North, the Easterlings of Rhûn were sending an army to Mordor to bolster the forces of the orcs, and to the South, the Haradrim were preparing to do the same. Saruman looked upon the armies of his old foe, and he clenched his teeth in anger. Sauron was not better than him, and Saruman would have loved to see all those armies crushed entirely.

Even as Saruman imagined victory, Sauron spoke again.

"How much do you hate?" the Dark Lord asked.

Saruman made to attempt to respond, but within, he was fuming. His anger was not to be taken lightly.

"It is not enough."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I couldn't let this go unfinished. I've put in far too much time and effort and thought and love. To my knowledge, this is one of very few stories that features a good Saruman, if not the only one. I've become so attached to this story of Saruman's redemption, and I need to complete it.
> 
> Addiotionally, I'm considering going back to all previous chapters and doing a bit of cleaning up. There's some fat that could be trimmed, and it shouldn't be too hard to do.


End file.
